Blue-Sky Thinking
by ifenglandwaswhatenglandseems
Summary: This story follows Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley through their sixth year at Hogwarts, and the struggles that they face as Scorpius walks the line between his family's "Death Eater" past, and the new future of the Wizarding World. Features many next generation characters, and additional OCs created by me.
1. Chapter 1: Another Beginning

All rights to the Harry Potter world and characters obviously belong to J.K. Rowling.

Please be aware that I used (or, Yaxley uses) some strong language at points in the story. Enjoy.

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 **Chapter 1: Another Beginning**

"Can you believe this?" snapped Abacus Yaxley, gazing out the window at the platform below. "All these _Half-bloods_ and _Mudbloods_. God! It makes me sick!"

A chorus of ascension rose up from the other's in the compartment. Gage Rowle and Flint Forsyth both let out hisses, and Axiom Bulstrode rolled her wand between her hands as if she were warming up to curse them all.

"I really wish I could teach these Mudbloods a lesson," Yaxley continued. Axiom and Flint leaned forward excitedly as Yaxley twirled his wand between his fingers. "Too bad my father forbade me from causing trouble this year." He snorted. "As if that'll keep me from cursing a First year or two!"

Once again, an echo of laughter resounded through the compartment of Slytherins. Yaxley's eyes shifted through the room, his lips pulled back in a smirk. The smile left his face as his eyes fell on Scorpius Malfoy, sitting in the corner.

"Don't you agree, _Malfoy_?" Yaxley asked sternly, causing the others to fall dead silent. "Don't you think the blood-traitors deserve it?"

Scorpius, lounging in his seat beside Cobalt Zabini, slowly looked up into the older boy's affronted face. He had been watching Cobalt and Calyx Zabini's chess match when he heard his name.

"I completely agree," he responded smoothly. He didn't have to know exactly what Yaxley had said to know that it was likely something derogatory, and probably aimed at Hogwarts' less well-accepted masses. "Forgive me," he continued, "you merely caught me in a moment of quiet contemplation." He tried to speak slowly around his fellow Slytherins; most of their noses were so high in the air that they couldn't hear unless you stood behind them.

Yaxley's eyebrows raised slightly, and a smirk slid across his face. "Of course," he whispered. "You were probably daydreaming about one of the Weasley whores."

A shock went through Scorpius' system at the W-word. Not Weasley, but the other one.

The other boy seemed to think he had struck a chord with his insult. "Oh, did I unleash a secret, Malfoy? Are you secretly in love with Lily or Sarsaparilla or whatever her name is?" A bout of laughter exploded from Axiom, who hung off of Yaxley's every word, and literally off of his arm.

"Lily is, technically, a Potter." Scorpius rolled his eyes. "And no, I'm not. I was just surprised at your use of such a Muggle term." Yaxley cocked his head slightly in confusion. "Whore is a very Muggle term," Scorpius explained.

"Well I was just trying to use language _you're_ comfortable with," Yaxley retorted.

The entire compartment had fallen silent by this point. Calyx had paused mid-move in her chess game, Flint was leaning forward with his chin supported in his palm, and the newest members of the posse – people whose names Scorpius, and probably Yaxley, had yet to learn – were watching with wide eyes and open mouths.

Yaxley's eyes narrowed, and Scorpius noticed that he had stopped twirling his wand. The tip was pointed directly at Scorpius' chest, whether deliberately or not was another matter. "I mean, the Malfoy family is basically half-blood now, right? Maybe quarter-blood?" He laughed under his breath.

Scorpius felt his own eyes narrow, and his throat tightened like it did when he got angry. The issue of his family's participation in the Wizarding War had been brought up multiple times over the five years he'd attended Hogwarts. And even before that, around his father, Draco's, old friends, he'd had to learn to deal with snide remarks and back-handed comments. Now, at least, in his sixth year of dealing with Yaxley, Scorpius could control his anger enough not to engage in a full-blown dual.

He glanced down at his hands, disengaging from the argument. Some of the normal settling and chatting sounds returned to the compartment as people felt the tension diffuse.

"Oh, look, Malfoy," Yaxley suddenly called. "Speak of the devil. There's that little sister of yours." He smirked at Scorpius. "First years are just _so_ adorable."

Scorpius glanced down, and the boy was twirling his wand again, menacingly. Yaxley tapped it twice against the window, pulling Scorpius' attention to the brown pigtails just visible above the sill. "Better head out there, Malfoy. We don't wanna be seen with too many Malfoys at once, now, do we? Especially the young, undisciplined ones. Might give the wrong impression."

Scorpius clenched his hands, but stood and moved toward the door. As he passed her, Calyx Zabini smiled apologetically and rolled her eyes. She could stand Yaxley even less than Scorpius could because of how often the boy insulted _and_ hit on her, sometimes in tandem.

 _At least Yaxley doesn't fancy men_ , Scorpius thought as he moved through the corridor _. There are so many other guys I'd rather hook up with than him_. This cheered Scorpius up slightly, and he entertained himself by listing the guys he knew by level of "would-bang-ness." Then he listed the girls (this was a much longer list).

A cloud of steam and parental worry blasted Scorpius in the face as he jumped down to the station platform. He squinted, but couldn't make out his sister's figure anywhere near the Slytherin's window. He sighed, and strolled down the side of the train, ducking around groups of friends and families. Finally, he spotted her by one of the train-doors; she stood, anxiously glancing around, holding Draco Malfoy's hand.

"Scorpius!" she called as he came into sight. Draco raised his head, and squinted at his son.

"Took you long enough to come find us," he snapped.

"Sorry, dad, I was having a serious conversation with Yaxley." Scorpius and his father exchanged a look, and the latter smiled slightly despite himself. "So what's up, Vela?" Scorpius asked, turning his attention to his sister.

"Oh, nothing."

"You already scared?" he asked, grinning. "You already miss my handsome mug and strong, masculine protection?"

Vela grinned, but her cheeks blushed a soft red color. She took Scorpius' offered hand, and shifted with nervous energy at his side. "It wasn't me that needed you, it was dad."

"Yes, I forgot to give you something earlier, Scorpius," Draco added. "It's something very important to me, so be careful and don't lose it. No trading it in exchange for study help or essay cheats."

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "That was one time, dad. And I traded fourteen chocolate frogs, not…a weird family heirloom…" Scorpius frowned as his father pulled a gold ball out of his overcoat pocket, and held it out to him. It was an old Golden Snitch. He took it gingerly; the Snitch had sat on his father's desk since before he could remember, and Scorpius had been scolded severely anytime he tried to touch it or ask about it. "You're giving me your Snitch?" he asked.

Draco was staring intently at Scorpius, glancing between the Snitch in his hand and his son's face. "It's nothing much, just a bit of good luck for your sixth year," he said, shrugging.

"Dad," Scorpius snorted, "you've given this thing more protection and more polish than your wand. Why are you giving this to me, really?"

Scorpius could tell he'd hit some sort of chord with his father. The man, who usually stood so tall and sure, even amongst those who challenged his family's honor, now hunched his shoulders and glanced around distractedly. Draco bit his lip, then looked once more at the Golden Snitch.

"Just put it in your pocket. You'll understand later."

This was Draco Malfoy's catchphrase in the family. Receive a strange parcel in the mail: you'll understand later. Wake up and find your sister in your bed, and a stranger in her now vacant bed: you'll understand later. Told to cut your hair or sell your favorite broomstick: you'll understand later. Scorpius rolled his eyes (for the sixth time that morning alone), and tucked the gold ball into his coat pocket.

"Alright, well, if that's all, it'd probably be good to return to my non-mysterious counterparts."

As if on cue, the Hogwarts Express whistle sounded in its tell-tail departing pattern. Vela jumped excitedly, hugged Draco tight around the waist, and took off toward the nearest open door with Scorpius in tow.

Once on the train, however, the 11-year old's excitement began to sag into doubt and nerves.

"How do I know where to sit?" she asked Scorpius nervously as they made their way past full compartments of chattering students. "How do I know who to talk to, or when to change into my robes? What do I say when people ask me which house I want to be in? What do I think when the Sorting Hat is choosing?!"

"Vela. Vela!" Scorpius knelt down and took his little sister by the shoulders. Her blue eyes, the perfect match to his, were wide with fear. "First off, you sit where you can. And, you can talk to whomever you want…except…?" he prompted.

"Except Yaxley," Vela finished.

"Ten points to your future house!" he cheered. "Second, you have quite a while before you need to change into your robes; you'll know when it gets dark, and people start moving around. The people in your compartment will be changing, too, so just follow them if nothing else. And lastly, regarding houses," Scorpius paused for dramatic effect, "you know it _has_ to be Slytherin, or…you know…any of those other houses…I suppose those will do..." He winked at his sister, and saw a small smile break across her face. "With the Sorting Hat, there's no explaining. You don't have to think because you just know. The _Hat_ knows. You'll understand later." He winked again, and Vela broke out into a wide grin.

The two stood, and walked slowly down the corridor. When he saw a partially empty compartment of First-years, Scorpius slid open the door and gestured Vela inside. He watched as she timidly waved at a black-haired girl in the corner, and sat down across from her. _She's already halfway there_ , he thought.

Sighing heavily, he began to make his way back to his own compartment. He knew he'd arrived when he heard loud carousing, and the unmistakable high-and-mighty tones of Yaxley. Scorpius drew in a deep breath, and pushed his way through the door.

"Malfoy!" Yaxley crowed. "We were beginning to think you'd left us for a bunch of First years."

"They'd probably be better company," Scorpius muttered under his breath.

Calyx, still playing chess with her brother, snorted under her breath.

Yaxley's head swung up. "What are you two cackling about?"

"Oh, about how your hair is shaped like a cauldron," Scorpius retorted.

"What. Did. You. Just. Say?" Yaxley jumped to his feet, and took a menacing step toward him. Slightly behind him, Flint and Rowle stood and took flank. Scorpius maintained eye-contact as the other boy approached, and stood daringly close. Their shoulders were touching, and Yaxley's lips came uncomfortably close to his ear. The boy chuckled as he took his stance. "My, my, Malfoy," he taunted, sniffing. "Your collar smells like Half-blood Weasley whore stench."

And before Scorpius could form a thought, or reach for his wand, or even turn away, Yaxley was reeling backwards. The boy's hands were clapped tight to his nose, and blood was dripping between his fingers and onto his shirt.

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Note: If this chapter seems at all similar to you, don't worry. I started this story several years ago under a different account (wrote two chapters), but have since then lost track of my log-in information so I can't take the other one down. The other story is posted as BlueSky Thinking, by living-on-coffee - I swear that is me, and I'm not plagiarizing.

Let me know what you think! :)


	2. Chapter 2: The First Fist Fight

All rights to the Harry Potter world and characters obviously belong to J.K. Rowling.

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 **Chapter 2: The First Fist Fight**

The only sound in the entire compartment was the soft moaning of Yaxley, as the boy leaned forward and pinched the bridge of his obviously broken nose. Flint and Rowle, in full view of what happened, stared with open mouths at something past Scorpius. Scorpius turned, ready to congratulate the thrower of such a magnificent punch.

"Wow, okay, yeah, woo, I knew you had a hard head, Yaxley, but wow," Calyx said through her own laughter. She has standing to Scorpius' right and shaking out her fist. She shrugged when she saw Scorpius' inquisitive expression. "Someone had to do it, and ladies gotta stand with ladies."

Scorpius threw back his head to laugh right as a fist met his own nose. The result was a double loud crack, as the bridge of his nose broke and he stumbled and crashed backward through the glass compartment door.

The world spun as Scorpius landed on his back amid a shower of glass. Yaxley stood over him, fuming, the front of his white shirt stained rust-brown with blood.

"How does it feel, Scorpius?" Yaxley cackled.

"Ugh, I feel glassy," he groaned, sitting up. His head spun, and his arm stung from where he'd broken his fall. "I feel like a glassy, glassy dude."

"Nice one," said a soft voice to his left. Scorpius looked up to see Rose Weasley standing in the corridor beside where he'd fallen. She was staring down at him with mixed surprise and amusement. "Nice pun," she went on. "Almost, should I say, a-door-able?"

"I'll have to compartment-alize that one to use later," Calyx responded, smiling, from the doorway.

Scorpius chuckled and stood up gingerly, shaking shards of glass from his coat. He could feel bruises and tiny cuts forming and oozing on the backs of his arms and legs. Day one, and already his body was a mess. "Seems I've started something I can't finish," he said, nodding his head at Rose and Calyx, who grinned at each other.

"What's a-door-able is that little Scorpius carries his daddy's treasures around in his pocketses," taunted Yaxley in a sing-song voice. Scorpius' head snapped back to face him, in time to see Yaxley lean down and pluck the Golden Snitch from amidst the glass fragments. It must have fallen out of his pocket when he fell. "Is it a good luck charm, or do you just miss daddy?"

"Give that here, Yaxley," Scorpius said, trying to keep his voice even. He didn't like the idea that, minutes after he himself had finally been allowed to hold it, Yaxley was fingering his father's prized possession. "It's nothing important."

"Then why are you so bent on having it back?"

"Because it's mine."

"Seems it's your father's, really," Yaxley muttered. "I've seen it on his desk the last million times I've visited with my father. I bet you stole it, and now you're afraid I'll tattle."

"He gave it to me. Now give it back."

Yaxley took a step back as Scorpius made a snatch at the Snitch, and dropped it into his front pocket. He looked offended. "I'm not _giving it back_ to you." The boy smiled amusedly. "I'm gonna use it to get what I want from you. I want you to admit to me, in front of everyone, how you fucked this Weasley girl in the broom cupboard last term."

Out of the corner of his eye, Scorpius saw Rose pull back with a confused look on her face. He rolled his eyes. "We've been over this. It wasn't a Weasley, it was one of the other twenty girls at Hogwarts with red hair – in fact, her hair wasn't even naturally red. It was dyed red." He took a step towards Yaxley, holding out his hand for the Snitch. "And," he added, "we didn't do it in a broom cupboard. We did it in the dormitory. In our room. On your bed."

Yaxley's face went white, and his smile turned to a sneer. This time, Scorpius was expecting the punch when it came, but he still didn't react in time. The punch caught him in the jaw, and then a second one hit him in the side as he tried to make his own offensive move. Flint and Rowle began kicking him as he fell to one knee.

Scorpius found himself laughing as Rowle dealt the last firm kick to his ribs. Aches and pains were appearing all over his body, but still, the remark had earned him a glimpse of the look of utter disgust and terror on Yaxley's face, which would stay with Scorpius (and provide him with ample joy) till his dying breath.

"Well," he said, wiping blood from his nose with his sleeve. "I told Vela she'd know it was time to change when it got dark." He glanced at Yaxley, and laughed again. "I always know it's time when my clothes are covered in blood."

Slowly, a smile broke across Yaxley's face, as he glanced at his own stained shirt. "Always the jokester, Malfoy," he chuckled, clapping Scorpius on the back. And just like that, nothing had happened between them. "Come on, let's go change and hope that one of these other morons gets blamed for the door."

Together, the two grabbed their robes and headed to the bathrooms to change. Scorpius laughed along at his jokes, and let Yaxley lead him, arm around his shoulder, down the train. But all the while, he was carefully reaching into Yaxley's open pocket, and pulling out his father's Golden Snitch.

As the heavy weight of the enchanted gold fell into his own pocket again – his inside pocket this time – Scorpius felt the knot in his stomach (which he'd thought was a bruise) finally loosen.

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Review and let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3: Sorting and Unsorting

**Chapter 3: Sorting and Unsorting**

"Where do you think you're going like that?"

Scorpius squinted his eyes as the wind bit through the tunnel made by bodies. He drew his arms and neck deeper into his coat, and tugged his cloak closer around him. Behind him, the train let out it's goodbye whistle; a goodbye that filled his chest with warmth and expectation, as opposed to the end-of-term goodbye. Still, the cold dampened his joy and made him groan. Maybe the Muggles on TV were right, and global warming was taking its toll.

"Malfoy."

Scorpius blinked. The platform was packed with moving bodies, all now disguised and coded into their houses by the respective colors: scarlet and gold, blue and bronze, yellow and black, and, of course, the very familiar emerald green and silver. As Scorpius turned, surveying the nearby crowd for the speaker, his eyes met a swath of emerald green.

"Hi," he said. He twitched slightly as he blinked, trying to clear his head. When he glanced up again, he recognized the emerald green as Albus Potter's eyes - two orbs floating above a green and silver scarf and dark cloak. "Hello, sorry."

Albus cracked half a smile and looked at him closer. "You okay? I've been talking to you for several minutes."

"Just frozen," Scorpius said.

The boy smiled wider, revealing deep dimples in his lean cheeks. "Yeah, I noticed. What do you think you're wearing? Quiller will never let you inside in that."

"In what? My coat?" Scorpius asked. He ran his palms down the front of the coat, winking at Albus. "Don't worry, I won't get us stuck in detention for my Muggle coat. I'll take it off in the carriage."

Albus inclined his head across the platform, indicating the thinning crowd. "Speaking of which."

Together the two boys half-jogged toward the familiar dirt path carved from the forest undergrowth by the hundreds of students who had passed by, in transit, during breaks and holidays. There were only four carriages left when they arrived, and Albus immediately set off for the third in line. Scorpius followed, but slower, and paused at the head of the carriage, as he normally did, to pet the Thestral.

The horse-sized black creature bowed its skeletal head to him as he reached up and let him palm fall lazily down its forelock and long nose. At the steps to the carriage, Albus was engaging in what seemed to be a drawn-out greeting with the current occupants. The Thestral bucked its head as a girl let out a shriek, and the carriage dipped slightly toward Scorpius.

A girl with short red hair had thrown herself from the carriage steps, and now hung around Albus' neck with her arms.

"Al, where have you been? It's been ages since we last spoke."

"Lily," Albus said. He attempted to pry her arms from his neck. "We've been together all summer. I saw you two hours ago, on the platform, with everyone else."

The girl opened her mouth as if she were about to make a rebuttal, but her eyes met Scorpius' over her brother's shoulder, and she all but threw him aside. "I'm Lily," she said. She seemed to do a double-take at the marks he knew were still visible on his face. He had washed off in the bathroom, but the cuts and broken nose still oozed and ached. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Scorpius shook the offered hand, and was surprised by the firmness of her handshake. Then again, Lily was a notorious beater in Quidditch matches. "Scorpius," he said. He ignored the question.

"We all know each other," another girl said from the carriage. She, like Lily, had bright red hair, though longer, and wore Gryffindor's crimson robes. "It's not like our parents haven't made a fuss about greeting each other every time they meet on the Platform. How is Draco Malfoy, anyways?"

Scorpius had come to stand beside Lily and Albus near the steps, and could now see Molly Weasley's face amid the long hair and scowl. She was older, a prefect, and annoying.

"He's good," Scorpius said. The words barely left his lips.

Albus sighed beside him, but Lily looked him up and down with a smile.

"Come on," she said. "We'll budge up and make room; we're already cramped with Al joining anyways."

Molly rolled her eyes, but no one else seemed to disagree, so Scorpius clambered up behind Albus. The carriage was made for 6 to fit comfortably, but there were already 7 seated. Albus sat beside Molly, and Lily wordlessly perched on his lap and pulled a book from her pocket. Two boys in Hufflepuff robes were seated next to Molly, and they parted to make room for Scorpius.

He sat.

The carriage began to roll to the even pace of the Thestral's stride, and silence ensued, except for Lily's intermittent giggles over what she was reading. Scorpius glanced to either side of him and met the gaze of the Scamander twins, Lysander and Lorcan. He met their ice blue stare and tried to smile, but it turned into a wince.

"You gotta work on that," one of them said. He had an earring in one ear - what resembled a large wooden fang that had widened a sizable hole in his lobe. "You're beginning to resemble your father, Malfoy, and no sixteen year old wants to rock that hairline, let me tell ya."

Molly leaned past the other boy, her eyes squinting. "Yeah, I don't know how people actually think you're You-Know-Who's son. The sallow cheeks and eyes are uncanny."

Scorpius clenched his fists on his knees. He had heard worse, and from far worse people - Daily Prophet writers, fellow Slytherins, even a few teachers his first year - but those were people he could detest. He had always viewed the Weasley-Potters as cordial and friendly, especially with Albus as a semi-friend.

"Guys, stop."

The girl across from him, who had been reading up until this point, glared over at Molly and Lysander. The two laughed slightly and made remarks about it being a joke, but her gaze stayed fixed on them until their laughter died off.

"Shut up," Lily added. She elbowed Molly in the ribs.

Scorpius watched the first girl as she silenced her family members, and then let his eyes wander to the bobbing head of the Thestral behind her. As they drew up a hill, it dipped its head low against the burden of its cargo. Rose Weasley. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her turn to face him again.

"I apologize." The girl's voice reached him through a reverie.

Scorpius shrugged. Ahead of them, the castle was drawing near. Individual windows began to take shape.

"Your sister is getting Sorted tonight, right?"

Another girl was staring at him now, seated beside Rose. The two looked almost like twins, except Rose had red curly hair and she had dark brown curls. Cousins, he knew, but still.

"Yes," he said. "Vela. My parents are hoping for Slytherin."

A soft scoffing sound came from beside him. He ignored it.

The girl smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. It bounced back almost immediately. "What are _you_ hoping for?"

Again he shrugged. "I think Ravenclaw could be good for her, but Slytherin would be easier. For family reasons."

"You do not have to explain _that_ ," Albus said, gesturing at the Slytherin badge on his chest. "They don't care, but, on some level, they _do_ care."

"Yeah, you're not a good example, Al; Uncle Harry couldn't care less; all of us couldn't care less," the girl said.

"Or could they," Albus muttered.

"Ok, yeah, we're done with your side now, Al," the girl said, waving him away.

"Well, if she ends up in any of the other three Houses, we're more than equipped to look out for her," Rose said. Her book was face down on her lap, with her hands folded over it.

"We'll show her all the secret passageways in Ravenclaw tower," the girl added.

"This is Roxanne," Rose said, gesturing at the girl. "She's very talkative when she's hungry."

"We must be nearly there by now," Roxanne said. She turned in her seat, and looked up the path to the ever-nearing castle. Scorpius had to lean slightly to one side to get the same view - one negative of being able to see Thestrals. Rose followed his gaze as they drew up to the courtyard, and he thought he saw her incline her head. The path was bumpy though, and he couldn't confirm for sure that she hadn't been jostled.

He ignored her watching him, and touched the bridge of his nose with his forefinger. The bone and cartilage throbbed. Great, probably two black eyes to start the term off.

"What happened?" one of the boys, Lorcan, asked.

Scorpius shrugged and let his hand drop to his side. He could feel every eye in the carriage on him, but luckily the Thestral was coming to a stop at the stairs to the entrance hall.

"I should hurry," he said aloud. "Sorting and all." He clambered down from the carriage, with Albus and Lily behind him.

"I'll walk with you," Albus said, waving his little sister away.

The two headed into the brightly lit Great Hall, and quickly found seats near the front of the Slytherin House table. He could hear Yaxley's coarse laugh coming from the mid-range of the seats, and was glad to have a reason to migrate towards the First-year seats.

It wasn't long until Professor Quiller led the gaggle of First-years between the House tables, and drew the list of names from his pocket. Scorpius came in and out of focus as the lengthy Sorting process began; he tuned in at each new letter, but would swing back into his thoughts as he remembered and tried to decide if Rose Weasley had tilted her head in the carriage. Had the girl merely been mocking his pose, or was she actually able to see the Thestral as well? Was this a new development? He couldn't know that for sure, as he'd never ridden in the carriages with her before. All the other Slytherins he'd shared a ride with had never made any comments about seeing the Thestrals or not.

As the M's were called, Scorpius let his gaze drift from Vela's shivering frame at the front of the thinning pack, toward the Ravenclaw table next to the Slytherin one. She was easy to spy, amidst a group of sixth year students at the middle of the table. Who had she seen that had died?

"Malfoy, Vela," Rufus Quiller's voice rang out.

Scorpius jerked his head around, just as Rose's eyes came to meet his. He swallowed, focusing on his sister's face as she sat on the three-legged stool before the Head table. He could see her scanning the tables, her eyes wide and frantic, and he had to resist the impulse to stand or wave.

The hat fell far down over her eyes.

B Quiller had only just removed his hold from the Sorting Hat when the ripped eyes opened and the lips sang:

"Ravenclaw!"

He knew the table to his right had erupted into applause that should shatter his eardrum. He knew that far down his own table, Yaxley and Axiom were likely cackling with delight at the outrage and the dishonor.

But Scorpius' ears were blocked from this. He knew that, beneath the thick folds of the worn hat, his sister was letting the first tears fall. Quiller removed the hat, and Vela took several shaky steps down. He rose in his seat. He would pull her to his side and lead her to the Ravenclaw table, and he would sit with her there if need be.

He stood, but when he saw Vela's face, it wasn't shrouded in gloom or glittering with tears. She was smiling; a small smile, but genuine. A Ravenclaw prefect was gesturing for her to join them at the front of the table.

He sank into his seat.

Albus leaned closer to him, his breath warm on his ear. "She looks happy."

He met the boy's emerald eyes, his eyebrows raised. "Yeah, I guess." He watched Vela take her seat, and felt a smile on his lips. "She let herself choose."

Once Headmaster Sylvan Mireille had made the last of the desserts fade away, and had uttered the last warnings and start of term addresses, the four tables of students rose in a clamor and headed into the Great Hall.

Scorpius, his stomach heavy with food, and still sore from his fight, pushed his way through the crowd of Slytherins heading for the dungeons, and searched for Vela amongst the Ravenclaws.

"Malfoy, over here." Rose and Roxanne were standing to one side of the bustling staircase, waving him over.

He pushed his way through, holding close to his wand and the golden snitch. Anything could happen in a large crowd, and he had been pickpocketed before. He drew close to the two girls so they would be able to hear his voice over the others.

"Where is she?" he asked. Vela wasn't with them.

"The prefects rushed the First-years out ahead of the group, so they could get acclimated," Roxanne said. Her voice seemed deeper than before, perhaps because she was tired now. "She seemed fine though, right?"

"Yeah," Scorpius said. He stood on tiptoe to peer over the heads of the other students.

"Hey," Roxanne said. "We'll find her tonight, or in the morning, and check in, okay?"

"If you want us to," Rose added.

"No, yes, thank you." Scorpius reached up to touch his nose again, wincing and looking around. His head felt swimmy from the fight earlier and now the noise and bustle. "I appreciate it."

As he went to move away, a large Gryffindor boy pushed behind Rose and Roxanne, bumping Rose into his side. Her shoulder hit him in the upper ribs, where a bruise was forming. He groaned.

"Sorry," she said, touching his side. "You okay?"

"Fine," he said. "Thanks again."

The three parted ways, leaving Scorpius to maneuver the dungeons' twisting hallways amongst his fellow Slytherins, most of whom were thankfully not anyone he was compelled to talk to. Instead, he walked in silence, half listening to their laughter and banter, half thinking about the day's events. A fight, a carriage ride with the Weasley-Potters, and his sister sorted into Ravenclaw - it had been a day, for sure.

He shoved his hands in his coat pockets, stretching his shoulders. The wool had done what was intended: keep him warm, and raise some eyebrows. He glanced down at himself, and had to laugh. He had forgotten to take off the "Muggle" attire before entering the castle. Maybe it had been some sort of good luck charm for Vela to get in Ravenclaw, happy, or maybe he was simply lucky himself for not getting caught.

Scorpius paused mid-stride, feeling around in his pocket. His wand was there, as was the golden snitch Yaxley had stolen earlier, but he could feel something else as well. A slip of paper.

He pulled it out, half expecting a nasty message from Yaxley or one of his ghouls, but it appeared to be a corner torn from the page of a book. When he unfolded it, a message read in scrawling letters, as if written quickly:

 _ **Who do you know that has died?**_


	4. Chapter 4: Who Do You Know That Has Died

**Chapter 4: Who Do You Know That Has Died?**

Scorpius awoke to the sun shining in his eyes. It was still just a sliver of an orb, barely over the horizon. He groaned as he rolled over in his bed. Someone had opened the curtains early; probably Albus.

For several minutes, he tried without success to drift back into whatever dream he had been having, but his eyes kept slipping open. He kept following the sun's climb on the wall. The words "Who do you know that has died?" ebbed in his brain, written in that scrawling handwriting, each word lighting up like a street light. Late last night (or early that morning, depending on how you looked at it) he had decided it must have been Rose that left it in his pocket. Rose Weasley. He had stayed up until 2am, pulling it out of his pocket, putting it back, unfolding it over and over again, until he finally put it together that the page was torn from a book, and Rose had been reading during the carriage ride. And she had been the one watching him.

After one last ditch effort to fall asleep, he sighed and pushed himself up into a sitting position. The room was brightening around him. He glanced to his left; the bed was empty, while two of the other three had huge mounds under them. It had been Albus, the one boy in their year that was perpetually up on time.

He stretched and yawned, staring out at the fake dewy morning. Like the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall, the windows in the Slytherin dormitories reflected the sky from the higher castle windows. It had been disconcerting his first year, having just descended several levels into the castle dungeons - supposedly the common room was beneath the Great Lake - and being able to look out on the grounds as if from the second floor. Now, however, and often in the winter months when the dungeons grew gloomy, he was glad to have "natural" light filtering in. Just not when he was sleeping.

"Hey, Malfoy," said a sleepy, coarse voice. Gage Rowle.

Scorpius turned slightly to the right, where Rowle and Flint's four posters stood at the far end of the sixth year's dormitory. A foot stuck out from blankets on one of the beds, and the toes wiggled in the chill air as if they were beckoning him closer.

"Hey, Rowle," Scorpius said, mocking the boy's tone.

The blankets flipped back, and Rowle's face appeared. His black hair was disheveled and his face contorted as the light hit his eyes. "Go get our schedules from Windenmere," he said.

Scorpius scoffed. "Why?"

Rowle's eyes squinted closed. Scorpius could tell he was trying to look menacing, but the result was merely comical. The bed head really didn't help the poor crony.

"Because I ordered you to," Rowle said. "And close the curtains."

Scorpius turned his back on the boy, and reached in his trunk for his robes. "I'm no one's damn lacky," he said, as he pulled on his shoes.

"What did you just say?" Rowle snapped.

Scorpius ignored him, heading for the door. He crammed his wand and the note into his pocket. "I said, I'm no one's damn lacky. And tell Albus to close the curtains. He's the one who opens them at the crack of dawn."

* * *

Scorpius stumbled his way into the Great Hall, massaging the last sleepiness out of his eyes. The Hall was mostly empty except for a few early risers. Classes didn't start until the afternoon, since schedules still had to be passed out, so most of Hogwarts slept in late. The tables had only filled the platters nearest those seated, as if they knew to expect a late rush for breakfast. The Head Table had less people than most of the House tables; only the Heads of the Houses had made it down this early, since they were responsible for handing out student schedules.

Clustered at one end of the Slytherin table, Scorpius saw the familiar dark robes of Astrid, the Head of Slytherin House and Transfiguration professor. She was handing out schedules to a group of Slytherins. Scorpius recognized the tousled hair of Albus still in his casuals, and, beside him, Calyx and Cobalt Zabini dressed in Quidditch attire along with other members of the team. He could tell they were discussing Quidditch strategy with Astrid, who was an avid supporter of the House team, but had never played a round of Quidditch in her life.

Scorpius let his eyes drift away from the group, and made a cursory search for Vela's long blonde hair at the Ravenclaw table. A few members of Ravenclaw's Quidditch team were also grouped up, poring over rolls of parchment, and there were a couple bleary-eyed first years. But no Vela.

He smiled to himself. She always was a late riser.

He meandered over to the group of Slytherins, slamming his fist into Albus' shoulder as he swung his legs over the bench and sat.

"Hey!" Albus said, rubbing his arm.

Scorpius gave the boy a sideways glare, already shovelling eggs and toast onto his plate. "The curtains this morning," he said.

Albus' face pinked up. He smiled wryly. "Oh, sorry."

Scorpius shook his head, and bit into a piece of toast.

Astrid came up behind him, her mess of curly black hair making a shadow on the table. "Malfoy," she said, holding out the envelope with his schedule inside. "I'm glad to see you pursuing Transfiguration at the N.E.W.T. level this year."

Scorpius smiled at her through his mouthful of toast and raised an eyebrow at Albus. Once Astrid had moved on toward the Head table, he said, "I told her I was thinking about going into Cross-Breed Transfiguration in my second year, and since then she's been pushing for me to go all the way." He opened his schedule and glanced at it. "I don't have the heart to tell her that I'm not _that_ into it anymore."

"Don't worry," Albus replied, pulling his schedule out as well. He offered it to Scorpius to compare. "I told my dad I would take anything I qualified for - you know, thinking I would need Exceeds Expectations on my O.W.L.s for most, and I wouldn't do _super_ well…" He let his chin fall into his palm and sighed. "Turns out I'm better at Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, and D.A.D.A than I thought."

Scorpius laughed, looking over their schedules. "I mean, D.A.D.A. was a shoe-in for you."

Albus sighed. "I tried my best to cast my Patronus wrong, but I guess I _am_ just too good."

"Oh yeah right," came a voice from behind them. "You know we don't learn advanced defensive spells until 6th and 7th year."

Albus and Scorpius both jumped, turning to see Rose, Roxanne, and Lily behind them. Roxanne was rolling her eyes at Albus' comment.

"You're just bitter because you didn't get in," Albus replied.

"Oh yeah? Take a look at that," she said, handing him her schedule.

"But you need an Exceeds to get into Advanced D.A.D.A." Rose said, also glancing at the parchment.

"Turns out, I'm great at sweet talking cute professors," Roxanne replied, winking.

Scorpius and Albus both glanced up at the Head Table, where Quiller was seated, talking to Astrid. He was what the girls always called young-old (or a "daddy" type) - from this distance, you couldn't see the smile lines and wrinkles that dusted his face.

"Very impressive," Rose said, laughing.

Scorpius watched her, his mind reeling about the note still. She glanced back at him mid-laugh, and he searched desperately for any sign that she was looking with intention, or trying to talk with her eyes. There was only laughter there, though.

"So what do you Slytherins have?" Roxanne said, snatching her schedule back and taking a seat on the other side of Albus. Rose and Lily hesitated for a moment, then sat down across from Scorpius.

"Can I?" Rose asked, gesturing at Scorpius' schedule.

He nodded, still watching her for a reaction.

"Advanced Potions," she read off, raising her eyebrows. "And Charms, Transfiguration, and D.A.D.A. That's a full load."

Lily leaned over her shoulder, reading it too. She frowned. "You're taking Advanced Herbology?"

Scorpius felt his face growing warm. Both girls were staring at him. "I like the plants," he said, shrugging. He cleared his throat, and inclined his chin at the paper in front of Rose, trying to dispel some of the attention on him. "What do you have, Weasley?"

He reached for her schedule, but she slid it out of range. "Same things as you," she said. "Plus Ancient Runes. I like the runes," she added, grinning.

"Looks like we have Potions and D.A.D.A. with the Slytherins, Rose," Roxanne said across the table. "The perfect opportunities for me to beat Al's ass, since he refuses to let me continue to do so on the Quidditch pitch."

"Still can't believe you quit the team, Albus," Calyx said. Scorpius had forgotten they were seated at the Slytherin table for a moment. He realized the group of Quidditch players were watching the gaggle of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws with surprise and interest. "Not that you were ever much help, Mr. Fumble."

Albus' ears turned red, and the table erupted with laughter.

"Sorry, I'm Calyx," she said. "I didn't mean to butt in, but…"

Lily reached across the table and shook her hand. "Lily Potter. And don't worry; I appreciate anyone who can give my brother shit."

"I know who you are," Calyx said. "I've taken several curve balls from you. You're quite the Beater."

It was Lily's turn to flush red, so that her skin matched her hair. "I have my mother's temperament," she said. "Speaking of which...I have to get to practice."

"We were all going to go watch some relays and skirmishes," Roxanne said as she stood up beside Lily. "I think the Ravenclaws were gonna challenge Gryffindor before classes start up today."

"Can we get in on that action?" Calyx asked. She glanced at the rest of the Slytherin team, and they nodded. "We were going to do some practice, too, but a skirmish sounds like fun."

Lily nodded, and she and Roxanne joined the two teams heading out. Calyx whispered some things to her brother, and the Slytherin team hurried out of the hall to get their brooms. Scorpius pushed his way up as Rose prepared to follow.

"Did you see Vela this morning?" he asked.

Rose paused, watching the others head into the hallway. "I haven't. But we asked the prefect to check on her last night; we can't go in the First year dorms. The prefect said she was settling in fine."

"Great. Thanks." Scorpius hesitated, biting his lip. "Listen, last night…"

"I'll let you know if I see her," Rose said. She glanced over her shoulder; Roxanne and Lily were waiting for her. "Sorry, I gotta go. You coming?"

Again Scorpius hesitated. The long walk to the Quidditch pitch would be an opportunity to get her alone and question her about the note. Then again, it would mean an hour or two watching skirmishes, and he probably wouldn't be able to pry her away from Roxanne or the rest of her family for long. He sighed. "No. Thanks again."

He sat heavily on the bench, rubbing his palms on his eyes.

"Wow, she really blew you off," came Yaxley's voice.

Scorpius sighed. The boy must have wandered up for breakfast sometime during his conversation with the Weasleys.

"Too bad. I really thought you and the Weasley bitch would have cute babies," the voice continued. Scorpius clenched his fist against his knee. "Aw well," he continued, "there's always the twenty other Weasleys and Potters to choose from. They all kinda _are_ the same."

Scorpius glanced toward the doors, despite his best judgment, and just saw Rose as she stepped into the hallway, facing away from him, her robes flowing behind her. He could feel the note in his pocket burning a hole. He pressed his hand to it, as if he had a stomach ache. "Shut up," he muttered, a delayed reaction.

"That was a meek defense of your girlfriend, Malfoy. I don't think she'd appreciate that," Yaxley continued. He was munching on some bacon, twirling his wand in his free hand. "No one-handed love for you tonight."

"Shut. Up." Scorpius said. The response was louder than he had meant it, and Astrid glanced his way from the Head table. The words from the note were still flickering through his head, and that mixed with Yaxley's grating voice was giving him a headache.

"Don't speak to me that way."

Scorpius felt pressure against his ribs as Yaxley leaned close to him. The boy's hot breath was at his ear. Glancing down, he saw Yaxley's wand - disguised from the professor's view by his robes and torso - pressed into his side.

"What? You can't take a little constructive criticism?" Scorpius said. He felt in his pocket for his own wand.

"One more move, Malfoy, and I'll curse you, here, in front of everyone. You know I don't care," Yaxley said. Moisture hit Scorpius' cheek as the boy spoke; he grimaced. "Now, if you'll be a good boy and follow me, I'll pull my wand out of your gut."

Scorpius sat, rigid, in his seat. The point of the wand was forming a bruise as it dug between his ribs. "Fine," he said.

Yaxley stood, slipping his wand into his pocket, and pulled Scorpius with him out of the Great Hall. He put his arm around Scorpius' shoulder, leading him up the main staircase.

"You know, Scorpius," he said, using his first name for the first time in years, "I think you're gonna learn a lot from our time spent together."

* * *

Yaxley led Scorpius up to the third floor and down several side corridors, lined with still-vacant classrooms. Voices from the main stairwell, now full of hungry students heading for breakfast, faded away. They entered one of the Muggle Studies rooms, where Gage and Flint were already waiting.

"Lock the door," Yaxley said, gesturing at Flint. He shoved Scorpius forward, nearly throwing him into a desk.

Scorpius stumbled and caught himself on the back of a chair, turning to face Yaxley. "What are we-"

Gage threw his fist into Scorpius' stomach. He half-collapsed from the impact, but Gage grabbed the back of his robes.

"Stand up," Yaxley said.

Scorpius groaned and straightened up. His eyes watered, and he had to breathe shallowly from the pain in his abdomen. As soon as he unwrapped his arms from his stomach, Gage drove another punch into the same spot. This time, he let Scorpius fall to his knees.

"That's for this morning," Gage said, stepping away.

Scorpius swallowed hard, trying to keep from moaning in pain. His body was still sore for the beating last night on the train.

"Get up, Malfoy," Yaxley repeated, "And don't be a wuss."

"What the hell are we doing here, Yaxley?" Scorpius asked. "How do you even know about this classroom; seems like you'd already know enough for N.E.W.T. level just from your home life."

Gage moved toward him again, fist raised, and Scorpius flinched.

"Don't hit him," Yaxley said. He was watching Scorpius with a strange expression on his face, as if he were tallying up how much money he was about to spend at the store. "I picked this room because no one will come looking for us here," he said. "We can do whatever we want. We could even light this place on fire, and no one would come running." He paused and leaned down to put his face close to Scorpius'. "You know why? Cuz no one gives a damn about mudbloods, or Muggle lovers, or you."

Gage and Flint both laughed, and Scorpius struggled to his feet. He glanced at the door; he doubted that either of them could accurately lock a lock.

"So why the secret hide-out?" he asked.

Yaxley again looked at him, sizing him up. "So I can make sure you understand where you fall in our plans," he said.

Scorpius frowned. Yaxley was an egotistical asshole - one who loved bossing his goonies around and throwing punches - but he didn't seem like a planner, or plotter. What could he be up to?

"What plans?" he asked.

Yaxley smiled. "You'll find out in good time. For now, let's worry about that attitude of yours, Malfoy." Yaxley was circling the room, strolling, taking in Scorpius from all sides. "I'm going to tell you to do some things for me, Malfoy, and I'm gonna need assurance that you'll get them done, without a hassle, and without the involvement of anyone else."

Scorpius frowned. The knot in his stomach was tightening. "What do you want me to do?"

Gage's fist hit Scorpius mid-back this time, and he slumped to one knee. Pain shot up and down his back.

"Shit, Yaxley!" he yelled.

Yaxley knelt down beside him, and gripped the collar of his uniform. "This is the kind of questioning and undermining that I won't take, Malfoy. If you mouth off, or forget to do something, or, Merlin forbid, alert any officials of our plans, I'll do more than have you beat up." Yaxley put his lips close to Scorpius' ear. His hold on his collar was almost a strangle. "I'm not against using an unforgivable, Malfoy."

He let go of Scorpius' collar, and let him fall to his hands and knees. Scorpius breathed heavy, but kept his face toward the ground, for fear that Gage would go for his nose or chin next. His eyes followed Yaxley's feet as the boy moved to the classroom door. Voices were filtering through, softly; afternoon classes would start soon.

"I'll let you know when I need something, Malfoy," the boy said. "For now, try not to piss me off."

Scorpius stood, groaning at the pain in his abdomen, as the three boys left. He lifted his shirt, and used one of the clear Muggle instruments as a mirror. A large bruise was forming along his lower ribs, and beneath his opposite shoulder. He didn't know what Yaxley wanted so badly, but he knew that, for now, the alternative to helping - or, at least, assenting to help - was more painful than it was worth.


	5. Chapter 5: Choose Wisely, and Drink

**Chapter 5: Choose Wisely, and Drink**

Scorpius barely had time to utter a hurried "Episkey," which succeeded only in healing over a scrape on his ribs and reducing the throbbing to a dull ache in his side, before students began filling the Muggle Studies classroom. Several third years shot him wary glances as he pushed past them into the crowded hallway, groaning when an elbow connected with his new bruises. His quick patch would have to hold up until lunch break; he was already running late for his first class, Defence Against the Dark Arts.

He took a deep breath, hoisted his bag of books more securely on his shoulder, and hurtled up the second floor staircase to the third floor. He burst through 3C's door unceremoniously, drawing the attention of the other 20 students already seated, and cutting Professor Quiller off mid-speech.

"Well, well, well," said Quiller in his rough voice. "I hope we didn't interrupt too much of your leisure time, Mr. Malfoy."

"Sorry," Scorpius muttered, heading for the last open seat near the back. Quiller was one of the rare teachers at Hogwarts that seemed to hold no firm House loyalties, although hailing from Gryffindor himself. He was, however, a stickler for promptness, professionalism, and hard work.

"Ten points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy," Quiller continued. "Next time, remember we start promptly at 10:30; if you are late again, the door will be locked and you will receive detention for your absence."

A spattering a soft laughter rose from the Gryffindors nearby, and Cobalt shot Scorpius an annoyed expression, mouthing "The first period, really?" Calyx rolled her eyes and smiled as he sank into a seat beside her, and turned her notes for him to quickly copy.

"As I was saying before our interruption," said Quiller, gesturing at the blackboard behind him, "we will be focusing heavily on Nonverbal Spells this term. Can anyone tell me the advantages of this type of magic?"

A Hufflepuff girl in the first row shot her hand into the air.

"Yes, Ms. Dylan."

"A Nonverbal Spell allows you an advantage over your opponent, since they won't know which spell you are casting right away," Rosanna Dylan said.

"Exactly. Five points for Hufflepuff. And what about some of the disadvantages?" Quiller continued. "Yes, Ms. Weasley."

Scorpius leaned in his seat, craning to see the front row. Sure enough, Roxanne and Rose were seated with the Ravenclaws. Rose was the one with her hand raised.

"Nonverbal Spells can be less powerful than verbal ones, since they rely solely on the wand work and intention of the caster," she said. "I also heard that different wand woods can have an effect on the strength of a Nonverbal Spell, is that true, Professor?"

Quiller's face lit up at the question, and he excitedly tapped his wand against the blackboard, removing the definitions he had written there, and replacing them with a flow-chart of wand woods. "That is correct, Ms. Weasley," he said. "There are types of wood, such as Dogwood and Pine, that are sensitive to and/or 'incapable' of performing Non-Verbal Spells. However," he continued, raising his hand for silence as the classroom devolved into muttering. "However, while there is research which suggests that Alder wands perform better Nonverbal Spells, and Dogwood cannot, I ask you all to always take these kinds of limitations with a grain of salt. Does anyone here have an Alder wand?"

Scorpius glanced at his wand on the table, and tentatively raised his hand along with several others, including Rose Weasley. He swallowed heavily, already feeling Quiller's eyes on him.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," - Scorpius closed his eyes; he knew the tardiness would make him a target for one of Quiller's demonstrations - "please come forward with your wand."

He made his way to the front of the class, feeling everyone's eyes on him. He twirled his wand absent-mindedly between his fingers, and came to stand across from Quiller.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy, _I_ happen to possess a Dogwood wand - very rare, if I may boast - and _you_ possess an Alder, correct? Good. Now, I will cast an offensive spell against you, Nonverbally of course, and I want you to try and counter it, again Nonverbally," said Quiller, smiling. He stepped back into a duelling pose, with his wand arm up and one leg back for balance. "Draw up your intention and the spell in your mind, and let it push forth as you execute your wand work. Lips tight shut, please, I don't want to see any cheating."

Scorpius glanced warily around the room, and stepped into a defensive stance, raising his own wand. He could have killed Quiller; not only forcing him to be an example for the class, but giving him nearly no direction to perform a branch of magic that was notoriously difficult to master. His ribs gave a throb as he nodded his ready to Quiller.

The blast hit him before he had time to think of a blocking spell, let alone cast it or even duck out of the way. His wand flew from his grasp as he toppled backward and came to land in a pile by Rosanne Dylan's seat. She let out a giggle as he righted himself.

Quiller was standing, holding both his and Scorpius' wands up as evidence, as the class cheered. "You see, class, you should never let another witch or wizard's words affect the magic you do or do not conjure," he said.

Scorpius stood, rubbing his side as the bruises ached. He wanted to correct Quiller's righteous monologue, and draw attention to the fact that he, Scorpius, was a novice next to Quiller, and that may have had something to play in their duel. Instead, he merely glared.

"A round of applause for Mr. Malfoy, for being a good sport," Quiller added, gesturing at Scorpius. He took a dramatic bow, wincing as he stood. God, his ribs. "Now class, I want you all to break into pairs and practice; switch off, with one person on the defensive and the other on the offensive."

Scorpius took his wand from Quiller, who clapped him on the shoulder to dispel any bad feelings, and headed back to his seat to find a partner. Calyx and Cobalt had already partnered up, but Albus was standing to the side of the crowd, his wand out and waiting.

"Ready?" the boy asked as he approached.

Scorpius sighed and rolled his eyes, making Albus grin. "I can hopefully take you easier than Quiller," he said, stepping into a duelling pose again. "Defense or offense?"

Albus smiled. "Defense, I think," he said. "I don't want to be the one who spends all period trying to cast the first spell."

"Thanks," Scorpius retorted.

As Albus had predicted, they spent most of the period trading off, trying to cast any sort of Nonverbal Spell. The way Quiller described it, as simply performing _as if_ you had spoken the words, made the task seem much easier than it actually was. Scorpius' eyes ached from him screwing them up, gnashing his teeth and trying to will something - anything - to happen. Albus similarly closed his eyes and wrinkled his nose, as if smelling Hippogriff dung, at times moving his lips slightly and frowning deeper.

Quiller circled around each group, offering advice, and keeping them amped up. At one point, Rosanna Dylan managed to cast blue sparks from her wand, which crackled loudly and spit in every direction, making her partner dive behind a desk. Several others had brief moments of success; most notably, Calyx managed to cast a weak Expelliarmus charm on her brother, which succeeded in pushing him backwards several feet. Cobalt, however, responded with a surprised and very vocal "Protego!" which in turn sent her flying into Albus.

* * *

By the end of the class, most of the students were rubbing their foreheads and some stared at their wands as if seeing it for the first time, willing it to do any type of magic at all. Quiller, despite this, seemed very pleased, and issued 12 inches on the comparison between Nonverbal and Verbal Spells, and ordered them to practice before next class.

"I thought that was going to go very differently," said Albus as they made their way down to the Great Hall for lunch. He was rubbing his tailbone from where Calyx had knocked him to the floor.

"Every year, I think I'll be caught up and able to take on the new stuff easily," said Calyx, "but each year, they throw even more crazy tasks at us. I can't imagine what Potions is gonna be like at the N.E.W.T. level."

"Maybe Podmore will make us brew potions with just our minds," said Scorpius gruffly. He was still seething from having both lost points and called to the front and humiliated by Quiller. On top of this, he caught a glimpse of Yaxley and his gang at the Slytherin table, who gave him a smirk.

Calyx seemed to follow his gaze, and frowned. "What did Yaxley want with you earlier?" she asked as they all took seats at the table. "I saw you leaving with him."

Scorpius shrugged as he helped himself to a roast beef sandwich and pumpkin juice. "Just some more bickering," he said. "I took care of it."

Calyx glanced from him, to Yaxley, and back, but didn't argue.

They were just finishing up and amping themselves up for double Potions, when a small but hard mass hit Scorpius in the back. He lurched forward against the table with the force of the impact, and sprayed himself with juice.

"Vela!" he said, turning to see who or what had hit him. The small blonde-haired girl was gripping him tightly around the middle, her face buried in his shoulder. She was shaking with laughter. "I've been looking for you! How is Raven-" He realized with a pang that the laughter was actually crying. He swivelled in his seat and pulled her face to his chest. "What's wrong?"

The shaking girl didn't say anything, but held up a red envelope in her hand. It was emitting large amounts of smoke, as if burning. "I c-c-can't," she whispered.

Scorpius took the Howler from her. It was from Malfoy Manor.

Not many others had received mail, with it only being the first day of term, so those within eyeshot were watching the Howler smoking with mixed excitement and trepidation; most had their hands over their ears. A flood of anger coursed through his body. How dare his father do this; how dare he humiliate his young daughter this way. There were plenty of other, calmer, less public ways to criticize the Hat's choice than through-

He had waited too long. The Howler lifted into the air, let out a burst of flame, and a loud, raspy voice flooded the Great Hall.

"SCORPIUS MALFOY, HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO YOUR FAMILY!" the Howler screamed. "IF THIS IS ANOTHER PLOY TO DISGRACE THE NOBLE HOUSE OF MALFOYS-"

Scorpius was, for a moment, taken aback: not because the Howler addressed him and not Vela, but because the voice was not Draco's, his father's, but his grandfather's. Why was Lucius Malfoy sending Scorpius a Howler? The Howler answered his question almost immediately:

"YOU INFLUENCED THAT YOUNG GIRL, AND NOW OUR FAMILY HERITAGE IS TAINTED. THANKS TO YOU, OUR ALLIES HAVE REASON TO DOUBT OUR ALLEGIANCE!"

Scorpius cast a wary look around him; eyes from every table were on him. Even the Weasleys, bridging the gap between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables, had broken their conversation and Lily had her hand over her mouth in shock. Worse, Scorpius could feel Yaxley's eyes on his back, burning holes, along with most of the other Slytherins who, as Lucius' voice had identified them, were "allies" of the family - former Death Eaters, most of them, which Scorpius himself felt shame about. The Headmistress had lifted her head and was surveying him with a concerned expression.

He had zoned out of the last of the Howler's message - though he could assume what warnings Lucius had ended with - and it was now ripping itself to pieces and burning to ash before the eyes of everyone in the Great Hall.

He took two deep breaths. Vela had pulled herself from him to watch the Howler destroy itself, and now cast her vivid grey eyes on him.

"Grandpa," she said softly. Her voice did not waver.

"Yeah," Scorpius said. He closed his eyes against the staring faces, trying to dispel the urge to run from the Hall and hide in his dormitory. He did not want to face two hours of Potions with these students, and Professor Podmore, who had witnessed a very public reminder that he was descended from Death Eaters.

Vela took his hand, sliding her thin fingers between his clenched ones. "You didn't influence me," she said.

Scorpius opened his eyes. She was staring deeply into his face, a small smile beginning to curl her lips. "I-I'm sorry. Everyone-friends-you," he stammered.

"I mean, you did," she continued. "But not in the way that Grandpa thinks; you didn't make me chose _not_ Slytherin. You reminded me that there was a choice I could make."

He nodded, struck by her sudden maturity. He had expected tears, which is what he felt like doing. "He's just upset," he said.

"Grandpa is angry because he thinks I'm shirking Slytherin, and the family legacy along with it," she said. "I'm not, though. Not entirely."

"That, and he's afraid, I think, that people will think you're trying to escape something - rightly so, I might add - and he thinks it'll make people doubt us," Scorpius said. "When really, Ravenclaw adds something."

"My dad always says that me being in Slytherin adds something to our family," Albus chimed in. "I come from a line of Gryffindors," he added.

Scorpius nodded at Albus, a silent thanks, though he really wasn't sure who was comforting whom - Scorpius, or Vela.

The bell rang for the end of lunch. Scorpius stood, but as he did, his shame and embarrassment faded to a rage. Instead of running to hide, he wanted to charge Malfoy Manor, to write a back to his Grandfather and father, to scream.

Vela still had hold of his hand, and seemed to sense his change in mood. "Don't do anything, Scorpius," she pleaded. "Please, it'll only drive something between you two. Let it rest."

"Fuck him," he spat. Albus and Calyx glanced up from their schedules. "I'm gonna write him a Howler back. How dare he?" He slammed his fist on the table, knocking over a plate of potatoes.

"Please," said Vela.

"Scorpius, we better head out. Potions," said Calyx uncertainly. They were waiting for him.

He sighed a great puff of hot air. "Fine," he said. "Fine, nothing." Vela hugged him around the waist. As she ran off after a chattering group of Ravenclaws, he turned and shouted after her, "Hey, how's Ravenclaw?"

She shot him a thumbs up from the crowd, and Scorpius again felt a fist of anger tighten in his stomach. How dare Lucius dampen his sister's joy. But again, the anger, like the pain, would have to wait until later. Calyx was tugging on the sleeve of his robes, and he was again running late for his next class.

They made their way into the crowded Main Hall, and while most students fought their way up the staircase to the classes above, they followed a small stream of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws into the dungeons below. As they wended their way through the passages, the group thinned, and Calyx turned to face Scorpius.

"That was...something," she said.

Scorpius nodded, rubbing his forehead. "Yeah, that plus two hours of Nonverbal had given me a headache."

"Same," said Albus, touching his own forehead, then letting his fingers lazily drift through his messy hair. Calyx shot him a look. "What? I heard the Howler too; there's no denying that. The whole school heard it," Albus countered. He gave Scorpius an apologetic look though. "Sorry, mate."

Scorpius gave a short smile back. He wanted a change a subject. The anger was bubbling like a cauldron, and he needed to steady himself for Potions class. "Shall we see if Podmore has us doing hand-free potions today?" he asked jokingly.

* * *

The Potions classroom was stuffy when they arrived, although there were only around 15 students in the class. Four large cauldrons were bubbling at the front of the room beside the usual blackboard which sported their daily potion instructions. Today, however, the board merely read in boxy letters: **CHOOSE WISELY, AND DRINK.**

Scorpius, Albus, and Calyx all took seats near the back of the room, watching the potions nervously as they bubbled. One glowed a brilliant red, another emitted blue smoke that drifted clear to the ceiling before dissipating, another frothed and foamed nearly to the lip of its cauldron, and the last was golden and rippled instead of bubbled.

"What do you think that means?" asked Albus, gesturing at the board. "Do you reckon Podmore'll make us brew one and then drink it at the end?"

"Or maybe he'll make us taste one and determine which potion it is?" Calyx wondered. She had stowed her wand behind her ear, and was anxiously drumming her fingers on her cauldron. Around them, others seemed to be asking the same questions.

"Ok, class, take your seats," said Podmore as he strode to the front of the room and sealed the door behind him with a flick of his wand. "As you all hopefully have realized, this," he said, gesturing around the room, "is Advanced Potion-making. Anyone who is not scheduled or does not feel themselves up-to-snuff enough to pursue this course should leave now." He paused, transfixing each student individually with his blue eyed stare, as if daring someone to get up. When no one moved, he clapped his hands together, making a girl near the front jump at the sound. "Good, now, let us begin with a little fun," he said. He moved toward the cauldrons, touching the first cauldron, the golden un-bubbling one, and pointing.

"Does anyone know the identity of this potion?" he asked. "No?" He moved to the second, the frothing one, and asked again.

The girl near the front raised her hand tentatively, then seemed to think better of it, and lowered it quickly. Several Hufflepuffs snickered at her.

Podmore stepped to the third potion, with blue smoke, and again asked if anyone could identify it, then finally the fourth.

"Well, it seems we have a lot to cover this term, class," said Podmore, feigning surprise. Scorpius had a suspicion that the Potion Master had pulled this stunt many times before, and never received a different reaction from his class. "What I want each of you to do is come to the front, and pick a potion. Take a flask of your chosen potion, and when you have reached your seat, you may perform any test on it you desire," he said. He gestured for the first row to come forward, and they did so timidly, peering into the hot cauldrons and whispering to each other. "You may smell it, examine its color, its consistency, see how it reacts to different ingredients and heats, and, yes, even taste it."

Half the class had collected their vials, and were now looking at them glumly at the mention of taste, as if wishing they could exchange their choice. One boy, holding a vial of the frothing potion, which was now visibly a thick brown goo in the glass vial, wretched at the thought. Podmore called the second half of the class forward, and Scorpius felt his heart racing as he waited in line.

"In fact," Podmore continued, a slight tone of glee in his voice. "Tasting your potion is a required part of today's lesson." A chatter of surprise and confusion erupted from the class. Podmore waved his hands, calling for silence. "I am not an evil man, correct?" he said. He didn't wait for an answer. "I would not likely poison my best students, would I? At least, not on the first day," he said, smiling. "Taste them, and if and when you have identified them, I want you all to start on making them yourselves. You'll likely not have enough time to finish, but you should be able to get a start."

It was Scorpius' turn to choose. Albus had taken the blue smoky one, and Calyx had chosen the golden one. He was torn as to whether he should try and choose one of theirs, so they could work together, or if he should try a new one. He gazed into each, trying to determine if he recognized any by sight; the goopy one looked vaguely familiar, though he gagged at the thought of having to drink it. He glanced around. Two others were left, waiting for him to choose. He dipped his vial into the frothing cauldron, and hurried back to his seat.

Calyx was already hard at work, her textbook open on her lap, as she dripped a drop of potion into her empty cauldron and cautiously added an ingredient, vanished it, and started over. She added lacewing flies as Scorpius shuffled by, and it emitted a puff of black smoke that colored her cheeks.

Albus was smelling his, consulting his book, and sniffing again. "I'm putting off drinking this for as long as possible," he said, keeping an eye on Podmore. "Urgh, you got the goopy one?"

Scorpius nodded sadly, bringing the potion up to his nose. To his surprise, when he sniffed it, it gave off no odor. He spent several minutes adding tiny bits of the potion to different ingredients, like Calyx, but nothing seemed to cause any reaction, except a whole slug, which caused the potion to sizzle and scald to the bottom of his cauldron.

"Ok, class," said Podmore. "You've had thirty minutes to test your potions...it is now time to drink up!"

The room fell silent. Most people sniffed their potion one last time, and glanced to their neighbors, waiting for the first person to drink the mystery liquid. No one wanted to be the first. But finally a boy at the front knocked his back, wincing. When nothing happened, others tried theirs.

"Cheers?" Scorpius said to Albus, raising his vial. It took him two swallows to get his down, although it was only half full at this point. The potion was so thick that he had to pause to knock the contents out. It tasted sour, like weeks old bread pudding and fire whiskey.

"That wasn't that bad!" said Calyx cheerfully. Albus winced when he drank his, but seemed to be fine. Scorpius felt a funny feeling in his stomach, as if it were trying to reshape itself. He leaned over his cauldron, feeling his insides squirm and twist, worried he would be sick.

"Are you ok?" Calyx whispered to him. Scorpius felt her sweaty palm on his back.

"Yeah," he sighed, half straightening up. The loop-d-loops in his stomach were calming.

"Dude, you're green," said Albus. "Merlin's beard, I'm glad I didn't pick that one. Mine burned a little, but at least I don't look like _that_."

Scorpius' stomach lurched, and he leaned back over the cauldron. He shot Albus a sideways glance, irritated. His forehead felt clammy.

Albus ignored him, instead leaning far to the left and right on his barstool, peering over the heads of the Gryffindors in front of them. "I wonder if anyone else picked that one…" he muttered.

Scorpius and Calyx both followed his gaze; there were only a few others who seemed to be feeling similar symptoms. The Gryffindor boy who had wretched at the thought of drinking his was also leaning over his cauldron, and another Hufflepuff girl at the front, and-

"Ms. Weasley," came Podmore's booming voice from the right, "are you quite well?"

Scorpius followed Albus' worried gaze to where Rose sat, her forehead in her hands, shaking her head slowly from side to side. Podmore had come to put his hand on her shoulder, and Roxanne and another Ravenclaw girl were watching apprehensively.

"Did you-?" he heard Rose say. She covered her face with her hands. "Professor, did you...did you give us Polyjuice Potion?" she asked. There was a hint of anxiety in her voice.

A shock ran through Scorpius' body. Calyx gasped beside him, and stared intently at his face. Scorpius glanced at his hands, trying to see if there were any noticeable differences in them; if the fingers were longer or slimmer, if his fingernails were painted, if he had new scars.

Not seeing any fundamental changes, Scorpius anxiously looked to Rose's hunched form. Was she experiencing changes? Was she transforming into some else? Was this legal to do to minors in a classroom?

Rose sat up a moment later, however, displaying no distinct changes. Her face was pale, but flushed where her hands had been. Podmore was grinning widely at the class, and he clapped her hard on her back, almost forcing her off her stool.

"Twenty points to Ravenclaw, Ms. Weasley. Well done!" he said. "Ah, the first potion has been identified; only three left now. Usually the golden is deciphered first, but, of course, we don't always have the daughter of Hermione Granger in our classes, do we?" He gripped Rose's shoulder warmly, and shook it slightly.

Rose's face had gone beet red, matching her hair and then a shade darker. "But, Professor, isn't it dangerous to give Polyjuice to us? Isn't there a risk-?"

"A risk, no no, no risk," said Podmore, addressing the entire class. "Polyjuice Potion, before it has been 'crowned,' as I call it, or before a subject's hair has been added, is completely harmless. The most the drinker may suffer is a stomach ache and nausea, which I see Mr. Finnick is experiencing." He cast a hand toward the boy near the front, who had just thrown up into his cauldron, much to his neighbor's displeasure. "It is in the hair that the true magic of the potion lies. All of these potions, class, you will find have that in common; and all may go horribly wrong if those 'magic' steps are done incorrectly."

The room had gone very quiet. Scorpius' stomach had settled, and Calyx had pulled out her potion's book again.

Podmore strode to the front of the room, his cloak snapping behind him as he turned. "Now, class, those of you who have the Polyjuice will start on concocting your own - I suggest reading the instructions very carefully, and it never hurts to read ahead several steps - and the rest of you, soldier on in your quest."

Calyx sighed as the classroom chatter rose once again to normal volumes, and Podmore swept over to deal with the boy who had thrown up in his cauldron. "I wish someone smart would figure out this potion," she said, staring forlornly at her empty vial. "All I've managed to determine is that it's odorless, tasteless, and golden in color. Which fits at least twenty of the potions in here," she added. She gestured at her book vaguely, then paused.

"What?" asked Scorpius and Albus together. She was staring toward the crowd of Ravenclaws, where Scorpius could see Rose and Roxanne chatting to each other. Rose was pulling out her potions kit, but Roxanne was acting strange, gesturing wildly and flipping the pages of her book as if something had come to her; she had the same golden potion as Calyx.

Then Calyx glanced at the Gryffindor boy seated in the row in front of them; he had just identified his neighbor's potion - the blue smoky one - and was bouncing in his seat, while the neighbor looked at him awestruck and slightly disgruntled.

"It's a Polyjuice Potion antidote!" he exclaimed. "I opened my book to a random page, and there is was: Polyjuice Potion antidote!"

"What the h-" Albus started to say. He was staring at the boy with mixed concern and awe. "He's gone loopy."

"No way!" Calyx burst out. She was staring down at her hands, resting on the random page she had flicked to earlier.

"Now what?" Albus asked. He leaned over her shoulder and furrowed his brow, reading aloud: "Felix Felicis, commonly known as Liquid Luck, a potion which when brewed correctly grants the drinker up to twelve hours as good fortune. Merlin's beard!"

"Professor," Calyx said, throwing her arm into the air, "Professor, is this Felix Felicis?"

Podmore turned toward them from the front of the room, his mouth wide in a sloppy grin. "Excellent! The third potion's identity has been discovered. Twenty points to Mr. Peregrine and to Ms. Zabini in turn!" he said, clapping his hands. "Quick, quick, now, twenty minutes left to uncover the fourth and final!"

Calyx grinned at Albus and Scorpius - who was feeling nauseous again - and flexed her fingers. "Guess I should get started on brewing, while I have Felix on my side," she said.

Albus and Scorpius exchanged a glance; neither had made a move to start their own potions. Scorpius' muscles were beginning to grow very sore, and the pain was draining his energy. He leaned his elbows on the counter between his and Calyx's cauldrons, and set his chin in his palm. He let his eyes glaze over and drift directionless over the classroom.

As his mind came unhooked from its tasks, the words on the paper he had found in his pocket came back: Who do you know that has died? Again, curiosity bubbled up in him. He let his eyes focus, and realized with a jolt that they had come to rest on Rose's face, likely for several minutes, by the way she was staring back at him, her eyebrows raised.

She smiled out of the corner of her mouth, and Scorpius felt his face flush red. He glanced away quickly, then let himself sneak a second look. She was still watching him, half-turned in her seat, her chin resting in her own palm now.

"What?" she mouthed at him.

Scorpius shrugged. His face still felt hot, and he hoped she would think the flush was from his lit cauldron. He turned to his book, and tried to make as though he were reading the directions; truthfully, he couldn't process them.

Something had landed on the table where his hand rested. A miniature origami bird lay there, on its side. He could see ink bleeding through onto its wing from the inside. He unfolded it hurriedly.

 **Why are you staring, Malfoy?**

Scorpius glanced around, then focused on Rose again. She was facing away from him, messing around with her potion kit, but he saw a quill and ink well beside her. He shot a look at Albus, but he had laid his head in his arms and was drifting off to sleep.

He pulled out a quill and ink well, and scratched a message back: **Why are you sending so many secret notes, Weasley?** He refolded the bird, now identifiable as a crane, with a long beak and neck, and tapped it with his wand so that it beat its wings and lighted onto Rose's table across the aisle.

He could see her smile as she read the message, and waited for her to write something and send it back.

 **Figured out it was me, then? Finally. Waiting for an answer still.**

Scorpius frowned, and wrote back: **I was staring because I figured you wrote the other note?** He couldn't understand why she would need a written answer for that one.

The returning crane read: **Yes, I realize that. Waiting for an answer to my other note, from the carriage.**

Scorpius' face flushed again. He palmed his forehead, sighing. He couldn't believe he'd been such a troll; of course she meant the other note. He shook his head, writing an answer, laughing at himself.

"That's class, everyone," Podmore called from the front of the room. "For those of you still working on identifying it, the final potion is a Felix Felicis antidote, of sorts; it gives the drinker increased misfortune, which evens out the Felix." Moans and soft curses broke out from the people who had drank this potion. "I know, I know, the luck, or, more correctly, the unluck of the draw, I suppose," said Podmore. "Now, those of you who are still experiencing nausea symptoms, and those who drank the Felix or Infelix, please come forward for the antidote. I don't want to hear complaints from those lucky few," he said, waving his hand for silence. "I can't send you all off for evening classes with extra luck, can I? Professor Quiller, especially, would have my wand for that."

Rows of students moved to the front of the room, and drank the issued antidotes, some with more pleasure than others. Calyx was one of the former, grumbling to herself as she drank the antidote, as she had Care for Magical Creatures later, and had general bad luck with getting burnt or scratched.

Scorpius' nausea had faded to the back of his mind after his note-exchange with Rose, so he hung back from the crowd, peering around for her red hair. He held the crane in his hand, his newest message inside. Now that he was certain the note was from her, and now that they had initiated a conversation, he found himself desperate to know _her_ answer to the question. Swept up in the first day of classes, and his curiosity about the strange note and its writer, he hadn't allowed himself time to dwell on what he would actually tell Rose, or ask her in turn.

As he waited for the crowd to thin, he thought hard to try and remember if he had heard of a death in the Weasley family. Everyone, of course, knew about the Weasley twin who had died fighting in the Second Wizarding War in this very castle, but that was before either of their times. Perhaps someone on her mother's side? What had Podmore called her? - Hermione Granger's daughter, that was it. They were Muggles, so he had no way of looking it up.

Scorpius shrugged to himself. He would be confronting her about it in a short time anyway. That was, if he could find her. Only a few stragglers remained before Podmore, waiting to be un-luck-ed, and Rose wasn't among them. Maybe she had headed out with the crowd; he could catch her if he hurried.

He grabbed his bag from beside his cauldron, and dashed down the row and out the dungeon door.

"Hey!"

Scorpius jolted to a stop as the female voice, but it was Calyx waiting with Albus at the foot of the stairs. He could hear dissipating footsteps and voices, headed for the Main Hall.

"We have a free period now," said Calyx, not seeming to notice Scorpius' blatant wanting-to-ditch-his-friends-for-something-important body-language. "We were gonna head outside while it's still nice, and practice those Non-Verbal Spells before dinner," she continued, then paused, glancing at his face, "I mean, if you want to join."

Albus yawned widely next to her, and stretched his arms over his head. "Yeah, I need some air after that stuffy classroom. I feel like I might fall asleep," he said.

"You _did_ fall asleep," said Calyx.

"Ok, well, fall asleep again, then," said Albus, yawning again. "Scorpius?"

Scorpius sighed, giving up on catching Rose at this point. He could maybe find her at dinner, before bed. He inclined his head up the stairs. "Alright, sounds good."

* * *

Together, they may their way up through the dungeon corridors, and then out through the Main Hall - milling with other students with a free period - and down the steps to the grounds. The wind was still blowing from last night, whipping their robes around their ankles and freeing large locks of Calyx's black hair from its bun. It was sunny, however, and the sunlight helped bite through some of the cold, and it dispelled some of the exhaustion from the day.

Other students gathered by the lake, daring to sunbathe, or lounged on the grass, books open but ignored beside them. The three headed for a wiry willow tree off to the left of the castle, and flopped down in its partial shade. They pulled their wands out, but Albus and Scorpius exchanged looks, and merely entertained themselves by conjuring different colored flames from their wands and discussing how they could sneak into Podmore's office to steal some Felix Felicis. Calyx attempted Non-Verbals, but quickly gave up, and suggested creative ways they could use Felix Felicis to their advantage.

Once the period was over, Calyx and Albus packed up for their last class of the day; Calyx was headed down the grounds to the old circular hut for Care of Magical Creatures, and Albus was headed for Divination in the third floor tower.

"I wish I'd thought to pocket that vial instead of drinking the potion," Calyx bemoaned for the third time. She hitched her bag further on her shoulder, and turned towards the Forbidden Forest and the nearby circular hut. "You watch: first day, and Professor Arce-Guillen will have us wrangling Blast-Ended Shrewts, and I'll have a burn up to here," she said, and gestured the length of her forearm.

"I thought you loved Care of Magical Creatures," said Scorpius. Calyx was one of the few sixth years who had pursued the class at the N.E.W.T. level, and the only one - so he'd heard - to have achieved an Outstanding on her O.W.L.

Calyx rolled her eyes, and shrugged. "I do. Professor Arce-Guillen says that's why I get hurt so frequently," she said. She opened her eyes to a comical width and mimed reaching into a pen. "I'm the one at the front of the class, _wanting_ to touch the Shrewts, and _begging_ to ride the Hippogriffs," she said.

Albus and Scorpius both laughed, and waved as they split ways, they two heading up to the castle, and Calyx speed-walking towards the forest. Scorpius lingered in the Entrance Hall after Albus left for Divination; he didn't have any more classes today. He contemplated going back to his dormitory, but then he would feel compelled to do homework, and he didn't quite feel up to Non-Verbals still. Finally, he decided to head up to the Hospital Wing and visit Heidi, the school Healer; maybe she could give him something for his ribs.

He climbed the stairs slowly, feeling his pains more and more at the possibility of a pain-relief potion. The hospital wing was moderately busy for the first day of term; three of the twelve beds lined up along the wing were occupied, and several students sat in chairs near Heidi's office, waiting to be seen. Scorpius headed between the beds, stealing glances at their occupants as he passed.

Two girls lay in beds a distance away from each other; they both had huge leeks apparently growing from their ears, and were sipping yellow potions, pointedly ignoring each other. A boy lay in the third bed, near the back of the room; he reclined with his eyes closed, as if meditating, while his left foot rapidly grew two sizes and shrank back, over and over again.

Scorpius masked a smile as he took a seat behind the others waiting for Heidi. He remembered a boy two years above him using an Engorgio Spell on himself last year; it had been less than a favorable outcome. At least this boy seemed to have missed.

It took nearly thirty minutes before Heidi finished with the others, and when she brought him into her office, she cast him a tired but not un-surprised look.

"More duels, Scorpius?" she said. She pushed him into a cushioned chair, and began inspecting his face, clucking her tongue at his half-competent healing job from the night before. "You nearly broke your nose again," she said.

Scorpius watched as she rummaged amid her lengthy blue robes for her wand and a vial. "Heidi," he interrupted as she bent to her work, "it's mostly my ribs and back, actually." He smiled awkwardly as she huffed a sigh. "I fell during Defence Against the Dark Arts," he said.

"Lift your shirt," Heidi said, not missing a beat. She probed his side, then made him turn so she could see his shoulders and back. "What did you fall on?" she asked.

"A desk," Scorpius answered, wincing. She was pressing her wand to the sore spots, and a cold sensation spread through his torso. It grew almost as painful as when it first happened, and then the pain subsided. "And a chair," he added.

Heidi tugged his shirt back down, and stowed her wand. "Looks like the chair had fists," she said, looking away. She pulled a large brown bottle from her cupboard, and poured a small amount in the vial. Scorpius didn't say anything. "Take this tonight before bed, it'll help you sleep and finish healing," she said. She shoved the vial into his hand and ushered him from her office. "And, Scorpius," she said, "try and avoid any more fights for at least a week."

Scorpius laughed and thanked her, but as he was heading out into the hall, he couldn't help but think he might fail her request. Yaxley's threat intrigued him, and made him angry, but an inkling of fear was also spreading in him now - or, not fear, but anxiousness. He didn't know when the next encounter would be, or what Yaxley would ask of him, or even if he would go along with it or try and fight back.

"Scorpius!"

He jumped, for nearly the third time today, and turned to see Rose standing in the entrance to the library, seeming to have rushed to the door from her study session. He could see several blue-clad figures at a table by the front bookcases watching them interestedly.

She caught his elbow and pulled him to one side of the doorway. "I've been looking for you," she said.

"Yeah," said Scorpius, his heart racing a bit. Once again, he was caught off guard and was frantically deciding what to say to her. "Oh, here, I answered the note, but didn't have a chance-"

"Oh, nevermind with that," she said, pushing the crane back into his hands. "This isn't really a note sort of subject, you know. We should meet and talk," she added.

Scorpius waited. "Now?" he asked.

"No, I have Arithmancy homework I'm working on," she said, gesturing at the table of curious students. They all looked away quickly. "But back here, after dinner?"

The library was usually closing around dinner, but Scorpius decided not to protest. He didn't want to put off finding out the answer any longer. "Sure," he said.

"Great," she said, and hurried off.

Scorpius watched her return to her study group, and felt a knot forming in his throat. It was if someone had shoved a particularly large bezoar in his mouth, and forced him to swallow. Now that the moment was close, he felt sick at the thought of telling his story. He had never told anyone at school about seeing the Thestrals, for the exact reason that he didn't want to recount his experience with death. Why had he agreed to this at all? He should have just ignored the note.

He glanced over at Rose's table. She was leaning over the table, pointing her quill at her neighbors parchment, her lips moving fast. Did it make sense for him to trade his tale for hers? Did he really want to hear it?


	6. Chapter 6: Snargaluffs and Secrets

**Chapter 6: Snargaluffs and Secrets**

Scorpius could barely hold still all through dinner. His head swung between Calyx, Cobalt, and Albus' conversation at the Slytherin table, scanned the Ravenclaw table in search of Rose Weasley, landed on Yaxley further down the table, who sneered at him, and back to Calyx. He picked at his food, and his leg throttled up and down against the bench leg like a Muggle machine.

"We really should get to work on that 12 inch paper for Quiller," said Albus as they finished up. He looked perturbed at the thought himself, even as he said it. "Or," he added, "we could hold off for tomorrow night."

"We should work on _something_ tonight, though," said Calyx, dipping her spoon pensively into a glass of pudding. She flipped the spoon into her mouth upside down, and layered the pudding on her tongue. "Maybe Non-verbal stuff?" she asked, glancing at Scorpius.

Scorpius, who was watching Yaxley talking with another seventh year boy, flicked his eyes back to Calyx. "I, uh, I have to meet Vela after dinner, so I may be late," he said. "I'm down for tomorrow, though," he added, nodding at Albus.

"Chess match then?" Cobalt piped in. He and Albus bumped fists, and Calyx begrudgingly joined.

A girl's loud laugh reached their ears, and both Albus and Scorpius turned their heads to look. A Ravenclaw girl was leaning over her seat, clutching her stomach, laughing at something her friend had said. Albus turned back almost immediately, but Scorpius skimmed the table again. Where was she?

He caught sight of Roxanne's brown curly hair near the end of the table, but Rose's red hair wasn't anywhere within sight. Should he ask her if she's seen Rose? He dismissed that thought quickly. She'd probably grow interested and want to tag along to look for her. He would just have to head for the library, and hope she showed herself.

He pushed up from the bench, and bid his friends a quick goodbye. The sick, twisting feeling in his stomach - which the Polyjuice Potion had initiated - made it impossible for him to eat, and he couldn't keep his nerves contained any longer. He'd go, pretend to look for a book on Non-Verbal spells, and wait.

The library, when he arrived, was empty except for the librarian, who gave him a once-over, and reminded him of the library's prompt closing in thirty minutes time. He headed for the Defence section, near enough to see most of the library entrance, but out of sight of the librarian. He pulled a book from a random shelf, and flipped through it, not looking. What if she didn't show? Was this a stick-up? Maybe she had planned this elaborate story to trick him into something; some joke amongst her family. Albus was probably in on it, which is why he didn't insist Scorpius join them for Wizard's Chess.

Scorpius shook his head to clear these thoughts. He slammed the book into the gap on the shelf, and extracted another. If this was a trick, she would have asked to meet him somewhere where he could get in serious trouble, like the Forbidden Forest. And if she wanted to humiliate him, she would wait until she heard his tragic story, so she could tell the whole school. He pushed the book onto the shelf, and glanced toward the entrance. Part of him couldn't believe that someone like Rose Weasley would want to trick him; another part convinced him to get her to tell hers first.

"Nice hiding spot," said a voice behind him.

Scorpius felt his heart jump. He turned; Rose was behind him, leaning on the bookshelf where he'd just taken down a new book. She smirked at his shocked expression.

"I tend to sneak up on people," she said, "My father jokes that they had to put a bell around my neck when I was little."

"Hi," Scorpius said. He cringed immediately. "Sorry, you caught me off guard."

"Hi," Rose responded, grinning wider. "Ok, we need to find somewhere else, because Madame Truesdale is going to find us and kick us out soon."

"Where should we-" Scorpius started.

She inclined her head. "This way," she said.

Scorpius followed her through the stacks, a round-a-bout way to avoid the librarian, and then out the side exit and down the hall at a slight jog. They rounded several corners, before reaching an old statue of a hag, at which Rose produced her wand, and uttered a phrase that he didn't catch. The hag's hump slid away, and she clambered through.

"Come on," she said. Her voice echoed strangely, like she was in a large circular room.

Scorpius slipped his legs through and let himself drop a foot to the floor of a, yes, large circular chamber. Rose had taken a seat on one of several worn easy-chairs in the center of the room.

"What is this place?" Scorpius asked.

"My Uncle George told me about it," she said. "I think he used to use it to hide from teachers and stuff when sneaking around with his brother. But me and some of the others use it to hang out mostly." She gestured at the chair across from hers, and smiled at him. He was still hesitating at the opening to the room; the hag's hump had reappeared to cover the hole. "They won't be down here tonight. Sit," she said.

He sat, but still felt wary. Something about the air in the room made it feel secret, but over-used; a place where you could easily grow too comfortable with safety, slip up, and get caught in. "Why do you want to talk to me?" he asked, finally breaking the silence and meeting her gaze. Today had felt like an eternity, and he found himself feeling exhausted now that he had a comfy chair to sit in.

Rose frowned, leaning her elbows on the knees. "You-you see the Thestrals, right?" she said hesitantly.

"Yes," said Scorpius, "I meant 'Why do _you_ want to talk to _me?_ " Her brown eyes, having grown confused, softened and became warm in response to his second question. "That's not meant to sound self-deprecating or soppy-sad or whatever," he added. "You've just never spoken at length to me before, and suddenly we're sending notes back and forth in Potions."

Rose stared back at him, her gaze strong. He felt uncomfortably like she was seeing through his eyes into his mind, and could somehow read the secret that was written there. But no, it wasn't even a secret; many people at home knew about it, he'd just never outwardly shared it with anyone here.

"What?" he said, to break the silence.

She smiled again, a small corner smile. "You see the Thestrals," she said. At his eyebrow raise, she continued: "I mean, I thought I was one of the only ones; no one else, not Albus or Lily or the Scamander twins or Roxanne, has ever seen them. And then you," she said, gesturing at him, "I saw you touch one, and I saw you look around it instead of through it, and I guess I thought we had this weird bond thing." She shrugged; her face had grown flushed near the end of her talk.

"I mean, I felt the same way, I guess," Scorpius said. Rose glanced at him, surprised. He thought back to when he had noticed Rose looking around the Thestrals, and the feeling of excitement and curiosity that had flown through him. "I've never known anyone either, here, at least, who sees them. I guess it's nice to know that, you know, someone else is as twisted as you," he said, smiling wryly.

Rose laughed softly, looking at her hands. "Twisted," she muttered, almost too soft for him to hear. "Do you _want_ to talk about it?" she asked. "I mean, I'm not sure _I_ want to; even after sending you that note, I don't know if I can stomach sharing. But I can listen," she added. "If you want to…"

"I was actually hoping you would go first," Scorpius admitted. They both laughed slightly. She was sitting with her elbows on her knees, staring at the floor between her feet. He put his head in his hands, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"It was a stranger, for me," Rose said softly, after a long pause. She didn't look up or move. She seemed fixed in a trance, and could have been talking to the wall for all Scorpius knew. "Who was it for you? Let's just start with that for now," she said. Her joints had come unfrozen, and her head swung up, eyes bright.

It was Scorpius' turn to feel uncomfortable, and to stare at the floor. A stranger? he thought. He knew what that was like: to see a stranger die. For a split second, he was ten years old, standing in a crowd of people, a circle of people, darkness all around except for their lit wand tips. Someone was laughing, or crying, he couldn't remember; both seemed possible. He felt cold, inside, at the center of his bones. His lips were whispering as he watched, moving of their own volition.

He rubbed his hands together, letting a shiver tremble his body. Rose, he knew, was taking all of this in, making assumptions about his experience with death by his silence and his shiver, imagining something dramatic and traumatizing.

He met her gaze. "It was my cousin," he said. The words felt odd on his lips; not heavy, like the truth should like, not heavy like he was trying to make them sound. They were easy, slippery, like the feeling of a Disillusionment Charm spreading over your body, turning your body icy and invisible. False and simple words.

He held her gaze. He could feel her reading him again, trying to gauge his emotional state, just as he was doing to her. He found himself concentrating too hard on his own mask to read through hers.

Finally, she nodded her head and stood. "Enough for now?" she asked. She extended her hand to him, and they shook hands.

"Yeah," he said. He stood, and followed her down a small passageway he hadn't noticed before, and out a door which let out on the first floor. Rose took several cautionary steps toward the main stairwell, and glanced up for anyone patrolling the corridor. Seeing no one, she turned to him.

"See you in Defence, then?" she asked.

Scorpius blinked, remembering the day like it was two months ago. Coming in late, the duel with Quiller, Non-Verbals, all came flooding back. Rose in the front row with Roxanne. He nodded. "And Potions," he said. "We'll both have to try not to transform into new people next class, won't we?"

She smiled, and nodded, and disappeared up the staircase toward Ravenclaw Tower.

* * *

Thursday morning hit harder than Wednesday had. The newness of the first day and the excitement of new classes had began to wane; few students made it down for breakfast, and several came in late, behind Scorpius, to Charms class in the morning. Having learned his lesson from Quiller, Scorpius woke with Albus and waited outside Charms class five minutes before it was scheduled. The two hadn't done any homework the night before, and were beginning to regret it as they thought of today's work on top of it. Instead, Scorpius had arrived in time to watch Calyx's bishop behead two of Cobalt's pawns and a knight in three consecutive turns, and then defeat Albus a third time.

Calyx and Cobalt arrived in Charms among the late-comers. Cobalt was grumbling about something, while Calyx rolled her eyes and pulled out her wand.

"I'm just better, Cobalt," she said, setting her Charms textbook on her desk. "Admit it, and you admit defeat. And in admitting defeat, you allow me to finally win the crown.''

"What crown?" said Albus.

Calyx smiled to herself, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear. "The crown of beating you two 5 times in one sitting, without even sabotaging you with false advice," she said. "The crown of ultimate glory."

"I knew that advice was wrong," said Cobalt.

"Oh, no you didn't," she retorted. Albus spread his arms out to shush and stop them, since he was seated between them and their wands. The Charms' professor had come in while they were talking, and was raising his own arms for silence.

"Welcome, class," said the elderly man, "to another year of Charms, the subtle art of conjuring, summoning, banishing, opening, transforming, and...well, you get the idea." A rumble of laughter went through the room. "As you've likely noticed from your other classes this term, your sixth year will focus heavily on what we call Non-Verbal Spells," he said.

Albus groaned loudly, and Scorpius' head gave a preparatory throb.

They spent the period going over spells they'd learned last year, only in Non-Verbal form. Calyx was tasked with summoning her book bag, which gave a few hopeful hops along the aisle but refused to move any closer; Cobalt was then asked to banish it, and exclaimed then winced when he sent it barrelling through a row of desks on his last attempt. A Gryffindor boy managed to vanish parts of his chair, and Albus was the first to successfully conjure water in the professor's goblet, although afterwards he admitted he may have whispered the first syllable of "Aguamenti." Scorpius was asked to summon a girl's bag from across the room, but at the last minute his concentration slipped, and he summoned a pencil, which hurtled toward the professor. He narrowly deflected it with a book.

All in all, Non-Verbal Charms came easier than Defence, which made sense, in some ways, as Albus said, "because we're able to focus on an object in most cases, whereas Defence was all mental."

"People are objects," Calyx countered as they headed from lunch to Transfiguration. "Focusing on jinxing someone is similar to focusing on summoning a bag."

" _Kinda,"_ replied Albus. "Charms is just more about subtle skills: wand-work, annunciation, and such. Defence is more mental; you have to _mean_ everything," he said.

Calyx glanced at Scorpius, and he felt a smirk spread across his face. "Maybe you're just not as good at Defence," said Calyx.

"I mean, I wouldn't say I'm excellent, but-" Albus paused, glancing at the two of them. "I am _better_ at Charms," he said, then added, "Better at Charms than you two, at least."

"Hey, who got their book-bag to skip along the aisle?" countered Calyx.

"Nice cover. You were supposed to _summon_ it, not make it skip rope," said Cobalt.

"Yeah, Albus did conjure water successfully," said Scorpius as the boy huffed. "Whereas you nearly busted a hole through the wall."

"I like using force," said Cobalt, shrugging. "I still completed the task, technically," he continued, though his cheeks pinked up.

The group arrived at Transfiguration in good spirits, albeit slightly nervous at the prospect of Non-Verbal Transfiguration, as many of the other Sixth years seemed to feel. Minutes before Astrid appeared, the room fell silent. Many students were attempting to practice other Non-Verbal spells they had covered in previous classes, as if it would help them.

Scorpius pulled his own wand out, threading it through his fingers as he leaned in his chair. His mind felt impossibly crowded, considering it was only the second day of term. It made him worry for later in term, when they would embark on exams and the coursework would be more immense. He knew his exhaustion was partially from his preoccupation with the notes and Rose, which luckily seemed to be on their way to being resolved; still, he felt anxious at the prospect of seeing her tomorrow. What if she asked for more information about the cousin he had seen die? Could he keep the lie going? Was it worth it?

A small voice inside him said yes. Whether the yes was to protect his ever-deepening secret, or keep talking to her was another question.

Astrid strode into the room, her hawk-like gaze skimming over the already-alert students, wands at the ready. She smiled and sat on her desk, letting her legs swing above the ground. When she met Scorpius' gaze, he couldn't help but return the smile; Astrid's class, as difficult as it could be, at least would be enjoyable.

"Well, class," she said, finally, "I suppose you're quite Non-Verballed-Out." She followed the nods of several students, her face softening. "Yes, yes, this year is the year of the headache, I'm afraid. And I'm sure my colleagues have jumped right to it, have they? Yes. Well, not in my class," she said.

She had the entire class' rapt attention. Scorpius saw several Hufflepuffs in the front row sigh heavily with relief.

"Now, we're not covering Non-Verbals for a while," said Astrid, "but we will be doing so eventually, so don't get too relaxed. I do realize that everyone is hitting you hard this term, and I'm a strong believer in cutting breaks. So," she paused, and withdrew her wand and a small pocket mirror, "we are going to start on Human Transfiguration - a little variation in your homework diet, hmm?"

She giggled softly, but Scorpius felt his stomach turn with anxiety. Human Transfiguration? Wasn't that Seventh year coursework, or beyond a Hogwarts' education? He had a horrible vision of himself stuck with a ferret's face for the rest of his life. What if something went wrong? There was only so much even St. Mungo's could fix.

Other students seemed to be having the same qualms as Astrid sent a stack of compact mirrors soaring through the air and they landed on each desk.

"Excuse me, Professor," said a Hufflepuff girl, "but isn't Human Transfiguration upper level and...well, dangerous? Like animagus level spells?"

"Right you are, Ms. Patil. This type of Transfiguration is quite difficult to master; many witches and wizards fail, simply because they qwell at the act of pointing their wands at themselves," said Astrid. She cast her gaze around the room again, her lips in a line and serious for once. "I'm not going to downplay that these sorts of spells can go wrong, it's true," she continued, "But as with all new magic, I'm starting you off slowly, hmm? Today we will be performing a hair-changing charm on our eyebrows. Observe."

They watched her lift her wand, mirror in her other hand, draw a circle in the air and tap her eyebrows and utter a quick "Crinus Muto." She turned to look at them straight on, her black eyebrows a now vivid magenta. She waggled them at the first row, causing the Hufflepuff girl to laugh.

"You must find the joy, the intrigue in this type of magic. Use it to explore yourselves; to fulfill your dreams of having smaller ears, or blue hair - with the ability to turn it back. Hop to it," she said, "I'll be circling to check your progress."

Calyx, who had been flicking her compact open and closed during the entire speech and demonstration, swiveled to look at Scorpius. "Bless her," she said, putting a hand to her heart and feigning praying.

"What color should I try?" Cobalt asked next to her. He was regarding himself in the mirror, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Definitely blue," said Astrid, coming up beside him. "Cobalt blue, I think." Cobalt shot them a look, but Astrid didn't break her serious expression. "Go on," she said, when Cobalt didn't raise his wand.

"Uhh, ok," he said. He looked at himself in the mirror again, this time with a look on his face like he was saying goodbye, and said a hesitant "Crinus Muto." His wand slipped, and he tapped himself between the eyebrows. The bridge of his nose turned a dark blue color. "Merlin's beard," he exclaimed, scrunching his eyebrows together. "Astrid, uh, you can reverse that, right?"

He looked to her anxiously, but she merely shrugged. "Chapter 4 would be a good place to start," she said, turning away, "I'll check your process at the end of the period, Mr. Zabini. And mind your aim, you three," she said, indicating Albus, Calyx, and Scorpius watching Cobalt with horror.

Calyx glanced at Scorpius and swallowed. "You first?" she said.

Scorpius picked up the mirror, staring into his own face. There were bags under his eyes, and a thin cut along his left cheek. He bobbed his eyebrows up and down, cracking a smile but silently saying goodbye to them. He turned his wand toward his own face - a strange sensation, like how he imagined a Muggle would feel turning a gun on themselves - and uttered "Crinus Muto" while thinking desperately "red, red, red…"

Nothing happened. Leaning toward the mirror, he saw that a few hairs had turned a light red shade. He frowned. "Well, I guess just fifty more times, and I can be a ginger," he said to Calyx.

* * *

By the end of the period, Scorpius had managed to coax most of his right eyebrow into an auburn shade, while Cobalt was still struggling to turn his nose back to normal. Calyx was flipping through her book, too, trying to help him; this caused a bickering match between the two. Scorpius' head pounded after the hour, and it was with a sigh of relief that he approached Astrid for a Transfiguration fix, and, bidding the others a quick farewell, headed down the stairs and out onto the grounds for Herbology.

The cold of the past several days had subsided just enough to allow a humid haze to fall over the grounds. Clouds floated thick as ever, reflected in dark tones over the lake's surface, and trapped the hot air and moisture against the earth. Sweat gathered on Scorpius' brow as he trudged to the Greenhouses along the left corner of the castle.

Professor Longbottom, a tall, middle-aged man with prominent ears, was already busying around Greenhouse 1 when Scorpius arrived. He glanced up from a bag of Flesh-Eating Slug Repellant as the door opened, and Scorpius allowed a gust of slightly cooler air into the muggy glass room.

"Ah, Malfoy," he said in his familiar deep tones, "I see you're pursuing Advanced Herbology, as expected."

Scorpius smiled and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Of course; I got an Exceeds on my O.W.L.," he said, then immediately regretted his boast as Professor Longbottom turned back to his task. "Thanks to your expertise, naturally. Can I help you set anything up, Professor?" he asked.

The man hunched over the bag of repellant, tossing some of the thick mulch-like substance into a nearby pot. It held a plant the size of a small willow tree, which had dinner plate-sized holes chewed in its leaves. He seemed not to have heard Scorpius.

He cleared his throat, and moved closer. "Professor? Are we working with this plant today?"

Professor Longbottom glanced over his shoulder, his hands covered in the dark substance. "If you could step outside," he said, "and wait with the rest of the class, I could finish with this, and start preparing for your lesson. Thank you."

Scorpius considered repeating his offer to help again, but thought better of it after a second. Professor Longbottom looked busy and overwhelmed, which meant he should probably leave him in peace. He stepped back, and slid out through the greenhouse door. A small group of sixth years was gathered under a nearby tree; Scorpius recognized many of them from his previous Herbology classes, but hadn't spoken to most of them. He hovered by the entrance, watching the dark form of Professor Longbottom move rapidly back and forth between the rows of tables and the supply closet at the back of the greenhouse.

He felt himself smile. He was quite similar to the professor, in many ways; he, too, needed space when he felt overwhelmed or tired, even if the help would have lessened his burdens.

They spent the greater part of the period prepping for a new shipment of Snargaluff plants which were due to arrive late the following day. The plant resembled a gnarled tree stump when planted, but contained hidden pods within its roots that were used in potion-making.

As saplings, the Snargaluffs could fit into 5 inch pots. Scorpius worked with the others along the long tables, his gloveless hands coated in a thin layer of dark mulch, his mind empty with the repetitive motions. They filled the pots with 2 ½ inches of dirt, and stacked them along both walls of the Greenhouse; the Snargaluffs had 3 inch roots as young plants, and they would fill in the remaining space with soil after planting.

When they finally finished, Scorpius' back ached from bending and stooping, but he felt contented. There was something about the methodical nature of Herbology, especially the planting and prepping, that satisfied him, and made the thoughts in his head calm. He pushed his way out of the Greenhouse behind a group of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs into the darkening grounds. He hadn't thought once about Yaxley and his threat, or about Rose and his secret.

He made his way into the castle, meandering to enjoy the breeze against his sweaty robes, and felt utterly calm for the first time since boarding the Hogwarts' Express two days ago. Even the mountain of course work - to which Professor Longbottom had added a 5 inch essay on Snargaluff saplings - didn't seem as daunting now that his brain had managed to rest and think about more mundane things than threats and death. He almost laughed at the thought. Two days into term, and death and threats were already on his mind. Years ago, as a First and Second year, that statement would have seemed absurd. But that was back before he had learned about the social-politics that ran rampant in Hogwarts, and in his home sphere. Or, rather, before he had been forced to learn.


	7. Chapter 7: Pre-

**Chapter 7: Pre-**

The wind blew across the grounds as if it was gasping, out of breath from the sheer frigidness of itself. The sudden lulls gave students momentary respite from the eye-watering blasts of cold, and they straightened up, only then to be buffeted as it returned with renewed vengeance, whipping their robes about their legs and pulling their hair back from their heads in streams.

Scorpius sat in the back row of the Defence classroom, his legs crossed into the aisle and his head turned to watch the small block dots outside stumble, crowd together, and scatter like ants. His eyes trailed from the group of Herbology students, braving an outdoor lesson, to the glistening surface of the Black Lake at the edge of the grounds.

True to its name, the water was dark and impenetrable to the eye; there were no discernable signs of life, though the giant squid was known to rise from the depths to sun itself on a bright day, and every second year student knew that it contained hidden multitudes. The sun refracted light patterns and ghostly shapes off the dark waters, carving mermen and tentacles into the jostling waves at shore. Mirages. Scorpius followed their impossible shapes as the developed and died, allowing his mind to wander.

The lake had evolved its black-tinged water long ago, before even Scorpius' parents or grandparents went to school here, when a rare form of red algae ran rampant. They called it the red tide, because the entire expanse of the lake held a thick layer of feathery algae. The black water adapted to absorb most of the light, and prevented light from reaching deep enough to feed algae and bacteria. This evolution occurred after a wizard – the old Care of Magical Creatures professor – attempted to fix the problem by introducing Grindylows, which coincidentally preferred the large supply of small fish and creatures to the algae, and threatened several native populations within the lake. Eventually, a little herbology (knowing how algae lives and grows – something even Muggles understand) and a few years of environmental pressures caused the successful black-water transformation.

Professor Longbottom had shared this story with the young students on their first excursion of the grounds. Scorpius smiled, gazing down, and remembered how excited he had been to see the lake, to meet the giant squid his father had told him about…Professor Longbottom had had to yank him from the lake by his arm and scold him to keep his eager feet from the mysterious black waves.

Now, watching the Black Lake and its continuous, cause-less waves made him drowsy enough to daydream. He wanted to take off his shoes and walk barefoot into the breakers; he wanted to lie his body down in the dark water, goose-bumps lining his arms at the thought of the unknown beneath, and let the cold carry him where it may. Mostly, he just didn't want to be practicing Non-Verbal defence spells anymore.

"Quiller," Calyx muttered to him, from the corner of her mouth. A warning.

Scorpius sat straighter in his chair, his legs still crossed in the aisle, and lifted his wand from his lap. He put on a strained expression, and waved his wand at the book he was supposed to expel from the table. It didn't move. Scorpius wasn't surprised.

"A ready body makes a ready mind," Quiller said, strolling down the aisle toward Scorpius. He paused beside Scorpius' outstretched legs, giving them a disapproving look.

Scorpius drew his legs under him, straightening his back.

"Better," said Quiller. "Again."

This time when Scorpius waved his wand, the front cover and several pages flipped back, exposing the scrawled writing within. He was about to cheer at the success when he felt Quiller's hand press between his shoulder blades, fixing his posture.

"Now," he said, coming around to face Scorpius again. "Try and feel your body's strength flow up your spine, through your arm, into your wand. Use that energy to expel the book, not your words."

Scorpius hesitated. Most of the class had turned to watch Quiller's demonstration; once again, Scorpius was the center of attention, and about to make a mockery of his wand skills.

"Ignore their eyes," he heard Quiller say. "It's you and the book. Again."

He swallowed, took a deep breath, and thought the words to the spell so hard that he saw them flash across his vision in red. A force burst from his wand, as it did when he conjured spells regularly, and he heard the thump of the book as it left his desk, careened across the aisle, and slammed into the side of a Hufflepuff girl's chair.

"Well done, Mr. Malfoy!" Quiller said, clapping his hands together. "Five points to Slytherin."

Scorpius let out all the air he had been holding in his lungs. He glanced at Calyx as Quiller strode to the front of the room again.

"How did you do that?" Albus mouthed at him. Beside him, Calyx and her brother had matching brown eyes, wide with shock.

He shrugged. He had definitely felt the energy Quiller had described; a force that rode along the muscles of his back and through his arm. He had never really thought about it before today, since he was usually preoccupied with saying the spell or completing his wand work. His arm felt tired now, as if he had actually thrown the book himself.

"Let this be a lesson to all of you," Quiller said to the class, "that the body and mind are linked, just as the voice and the words are linked. One does not work without the other, or, at least, not without a great deal of effort. On top of your essays on Non-Verbal spells, which I'm sure all of you are working on or have finished by now," he said this with a glint in his eye that came from years of knowing how students procrastinate, "I want you also to spend some time this weekend really experiencing and, indeed, investigating how your bodies react to and assist with conjuring magic. You can do this with Verbal or Non-Verbal spells, although of course Non-Verbal would be best to practice."

Calyx sighed as they all gathered their things and filed out of the room. " _More_ homework? Really!"

"We don't have _that_ much," said Cobalt, throwing his bag over his shoulder.

"Speak for yourself," Scorpius replied, remembering his Charms homework as well. Why had they put it off until the weekend? " _And_ there's probably going to be parties tonight," he reminded them.

Calyx sighed again, though her demeanor brightened slightly at the reminder that it was the weekend, and the first weekend at that. "We can probably get some practice in before the festivities start tonight," she said, "and then do the rest on Saturday."

Albus and Scorpius exchanged a look.

"What?" Calyx said. "I like dancing, ok? And you're right…we don't have _that_ much."

* * *

The group arrived early to Potions. There was already a small group of students waiting to enter the classroom. Scorpius tried not to look, but his eyes disobeyed him and swept the line for Rose's red hair. He found her easily, standing several feet away with Roxanne. She was facing away from him, chatting to a Ravenclaw boy, but Roxanne met his gaze and whispered something to her. Scorpius looked away quickly, his cheeks flushing. He hoped they wouldn't be able to tell in the dim lighting.

Again, he didn't know why he cared that she was there. He didn't know why it made him blush to be caught looking. He used to do such things all the time, accidentally or on purpose, despite any giggles or frowns he got in response. And none of it ever touched him, not really. So why was he blushing after catching sight of Rose? Was he worried that she thought he was intentionally watching her?

He was saved from his thoughts by the opening of the classroom door, and Podmore's booming voice from within: "Welcome, class. Come in and follow the instructions on the board, before you take your seats."

"What does that mean?" Albus asked, his voice a little shaky. They were all still thrown off from their Wednesday class, when they were told to drink the strange potions.

They filed into the muggy classroom. Large cauldrons had been set up, one to every station, and the ingredients cart had been wheeled out of the pantry and stood at the front of the room, with its glistening vials of unicorn hair, snail skins, bats eyes, and thin tendrils of wormwood. The blackboards were positioned as they were the day before, except they had been covered from top to base in small white script. Most of the class was congregated around these boards, peering at the instructions and letting out hisses of disbelief.

Calyx pushed her way through the crowd, and stood on tiptoe to see over the last few impassable bodies. "Podmore's partnered us up," she said, "dependent on which potion we identified last time."

"Oh god, who am I with?" Albus asked from behind Scorpius. He could feel the taller boy's hip digging into his side as they got jostled about. "I always get a lousy partner," he whispered to Scorpius.

"Albus is with…Verruca Tines?" Calyx read. "I'm with…"

"Me," came a loud male voice from behind them. Scorpius whipped his head around to see a tall Gryffindor boy, the one who had identified his partner's potion last class, standing behind them. He recognized him now, at his full height, as the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain and chaser. "Shall we," he asked Calyx, gesturing to a nearby empty station.

Calyx nodded, then followed him with her eyes narrowed as he went to claim their spot. "Marcus Huxley," she muttered under her breath. "Greeeeat." She rolled her eyes, and turned back to the board. "Scorpius, you're with Tanner Brezlund."

"Who?" Scorpius asked.

Albus gestured to a blonde Hufflepuff boy near the center of the room. He was sitting on his stool, already busy looking up their potion in his textbook. He looked like a dope to Scorpius, though he wouldn't have said it. "Good luck," Albus said, sighing. He waved as he headed to meet Verruca.

"Hey," Scorpius said as he sat beside Tanner. The boy grunted, but didn't look up. Scorpius didn't know if he was being rude or was just nervous. "So…this Polyjuice Potion…"

"I've just started on the lacewing flies," the boy said. His voice was brighter than Scorpius had first assumed, based on the boy's physical demeanor. He'd expected a gruff response. He gestured at a smaller cauldron beside the larger, within which a dozen or so greenish dots lay, as if they had flown in and died. "They have to brew for 22 days," the boy added, leaning over his book, "so we better get started." He busied himself with producing a small scale and paring knife from under their station.

"22 days?!" Scorpius said, his eyes wide.

"Why so incredulous, Mr. Malfoy?" Podmore asked from where he was stationed at the ingredients cart. "This is Advanced Potion-Making, and the advanced potions take time. They are not for the faint of heart, or faint of patience." He added this last comment with a small smile.

"But Professor, how are we going to cover enough material for the N.E.W.T. if we can only brew one potion a month?"

Scorpius jumped slightly at the familiar voice. He turned so he could see out of the corner of his eye. Sure enough, Rose Weasley and a Slytherin girl were seated behind them.

"Ms. Weasley, I admire your dedication to your education," said Podmore, pausing to hand several bags of slugs to a group of Gryffindors. "But, believe me, we will cover more than enough material for you all," he pointed his finger around the room, "to get a N.E.W.T in this course."

Scorpius glanced meekly across the room at Albus, but the other boy was reading from his potions book, flipping pages feverishly, his face red, as his partner dumped different ingredients into their cauldron. He swallowed heavily, looking at his own partner, who was now slicing fluxweed into thin strips with his knife.

"Many of you, especially those brewing Polyjuice Potion, will have blocks of time when you're waiting for a specific ingredient or a certain step in the potion to brew for several weeks. During that period, you will be brewing other potions alongside your main potion," said Podmore. "Now, pip to it and get those potions brewing!" With that, he clapped his hands together in his characteristic fashion, and swept off toward Albus and Verruca, whose concoction had begun to burn and let off a rotten egg smell.

"We need to juice these over the flies," said Tanner. He held several slugs in the palm of his hand, extending them towards Scorpius with a slight look of disgust. "We need about 12 fluid ounces, and these buggers are dry," he added.

Scorpius took the slugs from him, and pulled out his textbook with his free hand. He flipped to the page and bent closer, trying to read the small print in the low lighting of the dungeon classroom. "It says here to slit them neck to tail, and squeeze into a measuring cup," he read to Tanner, who may or may not have been listening. "But," he added, glancing at the round-bodied slugs in his palm, "I think if I do this…" He laid one slug on the table, pressed his palm to its plump torso, and rolled it along the surface. He could feel things popping and loosening as he applied more and more pressure.

"What are you doing?" Tanner asked. He'd finally looked up from his book at the aggressive movement on the table. "That's not what it says to do!"

Scorpius ignored him. He pulled a cup and knife from the side cupboard, and slit the slug from neck to tail. Juices squirted onto the knife and pooled on the table as he cut. "There," he said. "Now when I squeeze it…" He gripped the slug in his fist and squeezed it over the cup, like a halved lemon. Even more juice flowed over his clenched fingers and dripped down the split ends of the tail. Nearly 1/8 of a cup, from one slug. "There," he said, triumphantly.

Tanner's mouth hung open. "How did you know to do that?"

Scorpius shrugged. He had seen his mother juice lemons just the same, as she preferred to do her cooking herself, and not with magic. Tanner returned to his task, but glanced over at the cup of juice several times, shaking his head, incredulous.

He prepped three more slugs just the same: rolled them under his palm until he felt the pockets of juice within their delicate bodies begin to loosen and burst. Then he slit each open and squeezed. 12 fluid ounces, before he knew it. He poured it over the lacewing flies and the fluxweed in the cauldron, and Tanner waved his wand to light the tinder beneath.

Tanner gave him a nod of approval before returning to his books; he was reading over some Arithmancy homework. Scorpius felt strangely elated; he felt that he had established himself as an equal match to the studious boy, simply by applying a household trick. Too often other partners had judged him, based from his appearance, his house, or his reputation, and deemed him a slacker or someone who would dispute everything they said. Now that he had made a mark as someone who had something to add to the team, perhaps Tanner would be more welcoming in the coming month that they were partnered. He glanced over at his silent partner; he hoped so, at least.

Something brushed over his shoulder, making him jump. A paper bird flopped across his hand and onto the table. He snatched it into his palm before Tanner could see, and opened it under the table. He recognized the handwriting immediately, since he'd seen it only a few days ago: Rose Weasley.

 ** _How are you finished already? These slugs are gross._**

He was caught by the familiarity of the message. It wasn't a request to meet or a pressing question, as their other communication had focused on. It was colloquial, something he would send to Albus or Calyx. Somehow, it made him blush and feel lacewing flies fluttering in his stomach.

 **Roll them under your palm, like a lemon, Weasley,** he scrawled back. He folded and sent it. Why was he suddenly calling her Weasley?

He pulled out a piece of parchment and busied himself with pretending to do his Herbology essay. He wrote his name at the top, the topic, and stared at it, waiting for the next message, which he knew would come in a few moments.

It arrived as several other groups of students finished up their potion preps. There was a flurry of packing, footsteps, the clanking of ingredient vials being returned to Podmore. The bird landed, upright, on his left wrist.

 ** _Amazing_** , it read, **_didn't expect that type of trick from a Pureblood, Malfoy._**

The buoyancy – the flightful feeling in his chest – that had uplifted him through these past ten boring minutes faded abruptly.

"Alright, class, that'll be it for our class today. Take your cauldrons into the back storage rooms – they won't be disturbed back there – and label them to collect on Monday," said Podmore. "Don't lose faint of heart this weekend," he added as they filed from their seats, "your homework from me will be to rest, recreate" – this with a wink – "and to come back on Monday ready to potion-make, mkay?"

Scorpius stood, the note in his hand. He glanced at it, closing his fingers tightly over it. The bird's head, unfolded, bent at a right angle, the wings crumpled. He shoved it into the pocket of his robes, threw his bag over his shoulder, and filed out past Tanner without a backwards look at where he knew Rose was standing, awaiting a response or, at least, a glance from him.

* * *

Albus and Calyx caught up with him at the top of the dungeon stairs. He was walking fast, but not storming, not running away. Some part of him wanted to be caught; by his friends or by Rose, he wasn't letting himself admit.

"Hey," said Albus, touching his arm. "You guys wanna do some work in the library before next class?"

Scorpius, who had the rest of the day ahead of him, shrugged his shoulders. Calyx agreed, and led them up the main stairwell. He was still feeling funny after the message from Rose. Pureblood really wasn't that bad of a work, all things considered. It wasn't anything he would necessarily deny if someone identified him as a Pureblood; it was true, his parents' bloodlines going back to the dawn of time, it seemed, had all been wizards. Still, something about Rose calling him that – Pureblood being his defining feature to her – made him feel sick and angry.

He hadn't wanted to admit that part to himself. Upset, yes, a little stomach sick, yes, but not angry. He didn't want to give her and her comments that much control over his emotions. But as the group walked into the library and pulled out their books, it took a great deal of effort to unclench his fists and hold a quill.

"What's up with you?" Calyx asked him after a while. They had been sitting in moderate silence, with only the scratching of their quills and flipping pages between them. "You've been quite since Potions," she added, glancing at him.

"All is well," he muttered, not looking up from his essay. "Just want to get this done."

He felt Calyx and Albus exchange a look, with an accompanying shrug from Albus beside him, but ignored them.

"You guys hear about the party tonight?" Calyx asked, breaking the silence. "The seventh years are throwing it after dark; apparently some Hufflepuffs snuck a keg of fire-whiskey and other stuff from the Hog's Head cellar. Should be a blow-out; all the houses are invited."

"Sounds cool," Scorpius echoed Albus. He genuinely enjoyed most Hogwarts parties, especially the multi-House ones, since he got tired of the same old crowd – namely Yaxley and his group. He tried to muster some enthusiasm, but fell short. Maybe after dinner and maybe after some time away from the classroom, with his friends, he would feel better. He would after some dragon-bomb shots, that was for sure.


	8. Chapter 8: Party

**Chapter 8: Party**

After dinner, Scorpius lingered at the Slytherin table, his elbows heavy on the wood, uneaten dessert heaped on trays in front of him. He'd tried to eat, knowing it would settle his stomach and boost his mood, but all evening Yaxley and his group had been making gestures and faces from the far end of the table. At one point, while Albus angrily stabbed at his steak, complaining about their remaining coursework, Yaxley had charmed a small piece of parchment to imitate a Howler. The large lips moved and mouthed words that Scorpius assumed were insults or threats. Instead of tearing itself to cindering bits at the end, though, the faux-Howler slid under an unused plate.

Scorpius stared just beyond Albus' face, muttering responses, his eyes fixed on the plate as others began to leave the Great Hall. Yaxley inclined his head toward it, smiled a smug smile, and swept out with Rowle and Flint close behind.

"Ready to party?" Albus asked. He stood up, shoving his hands into his pockets, and waited behind Calyx and Cobalt.

Calyx yawned and downed the last bit of her coffee, standing slowly. "Gotta stay awake," she said, opening her eyes as wide as they could go. She looked shorter than normal, positioned between Cobalt and Albus, who were both head and shoulders taller than her. "Gotta party hard tonight," she said through another yawn. She clapped both boys on the shoulders and glanced at Scorpius. "Coming? Sylvia said someone snuck some firewhiskey for the pre-party."

Scorpius nodded, trying to focus on his friends. The corner of the fake Howler was protruding from under the plate. What if someone else picked it up before he could? "I'll meet you," he said, smiling at Calyx. "I want another cup of coffee before." He lifted his half-full mug and took a swig. It was cold. He swallowed heavily and poured more from the dispenser in, to warm it.

He took another sip as his friends made their way out of the Great Hall. His chest felt heavy. He hated this feeling - of not being perky or happy enough, of not being able to focus on his friends the way he should. The feeling of panic, which had been building gradually since his beat down several days before, was threatening to override even his most basic thoughts. Once more there were secrets, and he didn't know how or even if he could extricate himself from Yaxley's plans, whatever they were.

The Slytherin table was mostly empty now. He pushed himself to make a move. You'll feel better once you can hide it, he told himself. In one smooth transition, he hopped the bench, strode the length of the table, and slid the note into his palm as he passed.

He slipped through the crowd milling in the entrance hall and, when he was alone in the empty dungeon hallway, he transferred the note to his pocket. It felt warm there, as if angry at him for not opening it. He rubbed his palm over it, like he was smoothing his pants over his skint. It had been folded harshly, all sharp angles and thick creases. Footfalls echoing on the cobblestones, Scorpius kept expecting it to shriek out profanities, but the lips of the Howler didn't so much as pucker in a smile.

The party was already getting started when Scorpius arrived in the Common Room. Several seventh years had created a bar from four small tables, and, true to rumor, had arranged several bottles of spirits along their length. A small queue for drinks was forming.

He rushed up the winding stairs to the sixth year dorm and walked in to find Albus and Cobalt changed into their streets: t-shirts and jeans. Cobalt lay face-down on his bed, twirling his wand around his fingers. Albus was sprawled on his bed with his feet propped against one of Scorpius' bedposts. He lifted his legs into a 90 degree angle to let Scorpius pass, then lowered them again like a drawbridge.

"Albus was just telling me his plan for action," Cobalt said, rolling over to face them.

"You mean place _of_ action?" Scorpius asked. He pulled his robes off and stuffed them deep in his trunk. With the note now safely stowed away, he felt a fraction of the anxiety lift. He drew a deep breath and almost smiled at his friend's misspeech.

"No," Cobalt replied, "his plan to get some lady action." He waggled his eyebrows seductively.

"When you say it like that, I sound horrible," Albus said. "I'm just trying to mentally prepare myself for the crowd and talking-"

"Chatting up," Cobalt interjected.

"-to girls," Albus continued, "and potential dancing."

"Oh, there's gonna be dancing," Scorpius said. He finished getting dressed, pulling on a basic t-shirt and tucking it into his jeans.

Albus frowned. "Not for _sure_ ," he said.

Scorpius glanced at Cobalt, who grinned at him. "Calyx?" they said, in unison. She was notorious for dragging them all onto the dance floor with her when, after an hour of unsuccessfully roping a guy, she got lonely.

"Merlin," Albus hissed under his breath.

"Come on," Scorpius said. He tapped Albus' feet to get past, then extended a hand to him. "I need a drink."

Downstairs, they found Calyx in line already, dressed similarly in jeans and a tight shirt. Most of Slytherin House seemed to have appeared since Scorpius passed through minutes before. Large groups congregated near the unlit fireplace and around the black couches. Scorpius tried to keep his eyes from sweeping the room, but he heard Yaxley's laugh and couldn't stop himself from sneaking a few glances. The boy was in a group of seventh years off to one side of the room, drink in hand, his face slightly red from the alcohol. Scorpius noted this last detail with a hint of glee.

Their group shuffled forward until they reached the head of the bar-tables. A blonde seventh year handed each of them a plastic goblet and then made a series of gestures with his wand. Three bottles levitated and dipped their pours into each cup: first a thick syrup-like substance, then the golden-red firewhiskey, and finally a fizzy liquid that caused cold condensation to form on the outside of the goblets.

"What's in this?" Calyx asked the boy.

He shrugged and inclined his chin at the bottles, which continued down the line behind them, pouring inconsistent amounts in the offered goblets.

Cobalt sniffed his and winced. "Smells like licorice and paint thinner," he said.

"You don't know what paint thinner smells like," his sister responded.

"I can imagine," he said.

"Cheers?" Albus lifted his goblet and they all clinked and took a swig.

From the first mouthful, Scorpius could feel a burning sensation travel through his body, coming to reside in his stomach and the top of his head.

"Merlin's beard," Cobalt hissed.

They all laughed at that, and took another sip. Scorpius took a larger than normal drink of his, holding it in his mouth for a second - something bubbled and foamed against his teeth - and then swallowed heavily.

The group headed out for the party after several drinks. They kept their voices down and their eyes peeled for hall monitors. Houses tended to make their way to parties in small groups of 3-4, although it wasn't technically necessary. The Hogwarts caretaker, Mr. Moody, and the professors who patrolled the halls at night knew when the huge parties tended to happen - start of term, pre-break, finals time, and end of term - and had accepted their necessity many years ago. Headmistress Mireille allowed them to burn off steam, so long as the students respected their ability to do so. No hall parties, no trashing school grounds, an age restriction of 15 and older, and they had to keep up the semblance of quiet. On several occasions, Scorpius had spotted Quiller and Astrid sneaking drinks and joints from their students. It was a symbiotic relationship.

Scorpius smiled to himself. The burning in his stomach was slowing spreading down his legs and up through his head. Ahead of him, Calyx bounced on her toes as she walked.

"The more I think about it," she said, "the more I think my moves are gonna succeed tonight."

"You look good," Albus said. "Just remember not to talk about chess too much."

"I have other things I can talk about," she countered.

"Like Quidditch?" Cobalt asked. Though he couldn't see in the dark, Scorpius could picture the grin that flashed over the boy's face. Cobalt put his arm around her shoulders, laughing.

Calyx shoved against his ribs. "Yeah, about how I can fly laps around you," she said. The tone of her voice was light, and she wrapped her arm around his waist. "So who's the lucky girl tonight?"

"Elena Grenevich," Cobalt said. "Fifth year Hufflepuff, very cute. I helped her with some Transfiguration yesterday."

"Was that dirty?" Albus asked.

Cobalt laughed.

"Scorpius?" Calyx asked. She turned and he sped up to catch up with them. "Anyone you're interested in?"

Scorpius shrugged. "No one," he said. He thought he felt Albus' eyes flash to his face. He laughed. "Maybe Elena has a friend, right?"

They were on the third floor, in the right wing. They paced the long hallway, once, twice, three times, concentrating their thoughts on the party. On the third pass, a small door appeared in the stone wall, discreet, as if it had been there all along.

As they approached, it swung open and flashing colored lights and booming music flooded the hall. The Room of Requirement.

A lean, tall figure stood in the door frame. "Wands," the figure said. It was Elliot Moody, the caretaker's son.

Calyx went first, handing over her wand for inspection.

Elliot usually worked as doorman at parties, bouncing people who got too crazy, and checking wand ages at the door to prevent anyone under 15 from sneaking into parties. Although he was a squib, like his father, Elliot could manage a few simple charms and had studied under Ollivander for a short time before the wandmaker's retirement.

He took Scorpius' wand and twisted it in his hands, feeling the grooves of the wood and touching one long finger to the tip. "Malfoy," he said.

Scorpius smiled uneasily. The boy had disliked him ever since Scorpius had been caught up in several fights in his fourth and fifth years, but he was sure that others, repeat offenders, didn't get this bad of treatment.

Scorpius held out his hand for his wand. The others waited in the entrance, glancing at each other and then at Elliot.

The boy double-checked his wand, then finally dropped it into Scorpius' palm. "No trouble tonight, ya hear?" he said.

Scorpius held up his hands in mock surrender, then rolled his eyes at Albus as he was allowed entrance. The uneasy, tight feeling in his stomach threatened to return, but he fought it back. He wouldn't let Elliot's bad mood ruin the party.

"Warm welcome," Albus muttered. The two of them laughed, and Scorpius let it carry him deeper into the alcohol buzz.

The Room of Requirement had transformed into a large, dome-ceilinged room. A large central dance floor took up most of the space, where a series of flashing lights floated, rotating and pulsing in complex patterns over the heads of the dancers. Anita Skeeter, a Hufflepuff Muggle-born, was playing music from an enchanted device that looked like a cross between a dj's turn-table and a gramophone; Scorpius recognized the playlist of pop and rock music from previous parties he'd attended.

The beats and drops of a rap song thrummed in his chest. Beside him, Calyx began to move her hips, jostling between him and Albus. Other students, many of whom Scorpius knew to be hard-edge Purebloods, cheered as Anita cranked the music up.

"I'm gonna dance. Meet up with you guys later?" Calyx said. Red and blue lights flashed over her skin, breaking her grinning face up into color-coordinated pieces.

"I'll join," Cobalt said, "I see Elena." He took Calyx's hand, spun her once swiftly, then ducked into the crowd of dancers.

Albus and Scorpius made their way around the dance floor. Students of all Houses were grouped together, some merely circling and looking for friends, others clustered around the bar where, true to rumor, three smug Hufflepuff seventh years pumped booze from a keg. Still others sat on stools around a group of small tables, drinking, laughing, Slytherins hugging Ravenclaws, Gryffindors making out with Hufflepuffs.

"Check that out," Albus said, pointing toward the back of the room. Along the back wall, near several large open bay windows, a groups of students were smoking. They passed around several small cylinders, brightly lit at the end, which gave off a musky, familiar scent. Self-rolling joints: one of the newest additions to Weasley Wizards Wheezes in Diagon Alley this year.

It had been several weeks since Scorpius had smoked, and his mouth watered at the thought.

"I see a space next to my sister," Albus added, leading the way over.

Scorpius felt his throat dry. If Lily Potter was there, then likely so was… His eyes found Rose's curly red hair several spaces to the left of Lily. Somehow, he hadn't expected to see her at the party, although he'd certainly seen her at others in years previous. He fought the impulse to turn and walk the other way, and took a deep breath. Nothing was going to influence his fun tonight.

He paused only briefly, then took a seat between Albus and another boy. Rose was almost directly across from him, and he felt her eyes on him. I didn't choose this seat on purpose, he told himself, I just followed Albus. I don't have to feel awkward about it.

The boy next to him offered a joint and he took it, drawing the smoke into his lungs gratefully.

"You guys are late," he heard Lily say.

"Really?" Albus asked, taking a hit. "How long have you guys been here?"

Lily let out a characteristic laugh. "About one or two joints' worth of time. Hey!"

Albus took several extra hits, laughing with smoke curling out of his lips. "That means I need to catch up."

Rose held a different joint, and she lifted it to Lily's mouth. Lily drew on it, then Rose hit it, her lips upturned. Her and Lily were dressed similarly to Calyx, in tight jeans and tight shirts. Rose had left several more of her buttons undone.

Scorpius took a hit and let his eyes wander from her neck lower.

"How are your classes going so far?" Albus asked.

"Potions has been interesting," Rose answered.

Scorpius started slightly. She was watching him watch her with a wry smile. He felt his face grow warm.

"Which potion did you get?" Albus asked. "Mine's so difficult, and my partner keeps messing things up."

Lily snorted. "More like you keep messing it up." Albus elbowed her.

"Polyjuice," Rose answered. "Same as Scorpius."

He felt everyone's eyes on him. Now he was really flushed. He sucked the joint hard and ash burned the back of his throat.

"That's lucky," Albus said. "Rose is amazing at everything; you guys should work together."

"I've got a partner already," Scorpius reminded him, his voice hoarse from holding in a cough.

"I know, but on the side…"

"Really not necessary," Scorpius interrupted. He paused, trying to take the edge out of his voice. "I mean, I can handle it myself," he added.

He glanced up at Rose. She was looking at him with interest.

"Scorpius showed me a trick for getting more juice from dried slugs," she said, still holding his gaze.

"See, you guys could help each other under the table," Albus said, then muttered, "I wish I had that."

"I won't be sharing any more," Scorpius said. The conversation was reminding him of why he had been mad at Rose. The note. That word.

Rose's eyes flashed to his face again, her brow furrowed. "What exactly is the problem?" she asked. The words were stern, to the point, but the tone of her voice was questioning and soft. She genuinely wanted to know.

Scorpius felt Lily and Albus watching them. "If you're as amazingly smart as Albus seems to think you are, then I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet," he said.

Something in what he said made Rose's composure break. A small muscle in her face twinged, as if stung. "I looked back at everything," she said, meaning the note, "and I don't know what I said." Again, the genuine confusion.

Staying mad was using a lot of Scorpius' mental energy. When she refused to match his level, it made him feel silly for making it such a big deal. But it's not silly, he reminded himself.

He took a draw on the joint to allow himself time to think of a response. Did he want to prolong the argument, push her away, and break off this weird contact they'd established between them? Or should he just tell her? The second option could still cause their contact to end; people didn't usually take it well.

He sighed, expelling smoke through his nose. "The word you called me," he prompted her. He leaned to hand Albus the joint, but he and Lily waved him off. They'd moved a short distance away and started a side conversation; that would make this slightly less awkward, at least.

Rose took the offered joint and drew on it. Her eyes flicked slightly to the right, thinking. "Malfoy?" she asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

Scorpius sighed again. "You called me a Pureblood," he said.

"I don't think I understand," she said after a pause. "Is that bad?"

"It's not the word itself," Scorpius said. "It's the intent behind it."

Again, Rose's eyes flicked to the side, staring at something that wasn't there, then returned to meet his gaze. "I didn't mean it meanly," she said slowly. She was still confused; he'd have to be more explicit.

Scorpius took a long pull and let the smoke burn its way out his nose in two tendrils. He handed it to her without making eye contact.

"Do you like the word Mudblood?" he asked. "Or half-blood?"

Rose flinched at the word, as he knew she would. He felt a flash of regret, but it was the only way to get his point across.

"That's a derogatory word," she said. Her face was flushed clear down her neck and onto her chest. "It's not the same at all. Pureblood is basically-"

"A compliment?" Scorpius finished. "A status symbol?" Rose swallowed hard and nodded. "But what if the entire wizarding community only saw you as that? Labelled you as that, way before anything else? You're a Weasley, so I'm sure you understand getting labelled based on your family name."

"Hermione Granger's daughter, stuck up, bookworm, infallible, 'amazingly smart,'" she whispered, nodding.

"That's how it is for me, too," he said, "a Malfoy, troublemaker, son of a Death Eater, a Pureblood." He looked at her, and found her eyes had softened from defensive to empathetic. It gave him courage to continue. "I assume I don't have to explain how it feels, or how you're treated when you don't meet those expectations."

Rose nodded slowly, her eyes dropping to her lap.

"But consider that Pureblood isn't a bad word," he said. "Even my professors can call me that in class, and I'm supposed to smile. No matter how much I try and separate myself from the connotations of it, it's still my blood, and it's still considered a good thing to some." He glanced at her, and she still looked down. "I'm not saying it's on the same parr as Mudblood," he added swiftly. "That's a horrible word, and-"

"No, I get it," she said. "And I'm sorry, for calling you that."

He shrugged. "I can't fault you for not knowing. It's not something many people really care about...especially people like me." He glanced out at the party going on around them. Houses intermingled with other Houses; they shared tables, they danced together, hugged, played games. To the casual observer, it would appear that the last Wizarding War had uprooted all animosity and racism. But it lingered. Scorpius felt it in his conversations with Yaxley, he saw it at the dinners his father held periodically through the year, and he had bled because of it innumerable times.

"A lot of people _do_ view it as a positive," he added. "They like being compared to their parents, and they think people like me should be proud, too."

"People like Yaxley?" she asked.

He started slightly. He swallowed heavily and frowned, feigning ignorance.

Rose's eyes flickered over his face, seeming to read something in his expression. "Let's get a drink," she said suddenly, standing. "I'll buy."

Scorpius laughed. "Drinks are free."

Rose smiled. "Then it's an offer neither of us can refuse," she said. She pulled her wand out, snuffed the end of the joint against it, and returned both to her pockets. "After you."

Rose ordered two Old Fashioneds with firewhiskey - a Muggle drink Scorpius had vaguely heard of - and led him to an open area by one of the large windows. The Forbidden Forest lay moonlit below them.

"I need to sit," Rose said. She sat cross-legged against the window, and rubbed her ankle. "Not used to these shoes."

He took a sip of his drink; the large square ice cube had melted slightly, making the whiskey less biting than usual, and sweet from the added sugar.

"Good?" Rose asked.

He smiled. "Yeah, I like the sweetness." He paused for a moment. "I'm sorry for saying that thing about you being 'amazingly smart' earlier," he said, "I didn't think before I said it."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't worry about it. There are much worse things, and I know you were just repeating what Albus said. And he means it with endearment." She patted the ground beside her. "Shall we have fun now?" From her jean pocket, she produced the half-finished joint and relit it with her wand.

Scorpius let his eyes, once more, slip from her face, down her neck, to her chest - pulling deep breaths as she hit the joint - and down her legs. Something stirred inside him, and he glanced away. They were mostly alone, obscured by the crowds of people talking by the tables. He sat.

She went to pass him the joint, and he hesitated. Now that his adrenaline had died down from the talk, the full effects of the alcohol and weed were hitting hard. "I don't know if I should," he said.

Rose laughed. "Yeah, I'm feeling it a good amount now, too." Nevertheless, she brought the joint to her lips. "Sometimes it just feels good to subvert those expectations, ya know."

"Would your family disapprove of smoking?" Scorpius asked with a smile.

"I mean, my uncle did invent these self-rolling joints," she said, "but I don't think my mom would take too well to me smoking them. She tends to disapprove of things that affect my studies."

"My father wouldn't approve of me talking to you," Scorpius said. The ease with which the words left his mouth surprised him. "A lot of people wouldn't."

Rather than look insulted, Rose smiled wide. She raised her glass. "Cheers." They both drank deeply, then Rose hit the joint again. Scorpius watched her, fascinated by the movements of her lips; how they parted, wide enough to just kiss the tip, curling slightly inward as the smoke descended into her lungs, then exhaled a cloud of smoke.

He shook his head. The weed was making him hyper focus.

She glanced at him, a smile breaking over her face. She extinguished the joint against her wand again.

"That's a bad habit," he said.

"I know." She rolled her wand thoughtfully between her hands, examining the two slight soot marks. "I saw Jeremy doing it earlier. It seemed like a good move at the time."

"Who's Jeremy?"

"The boy who was sitting next to you," she said, gesturing toward the re-formed smoke circle. "He's the older Hufflepuff boy there, the blonde."

She paused, seemed to consider something, then added, "He was actually trying to flirt with Lily, so you chose the perfect seat."

"Oh, sorry, I didn't-"

She laughed softly. "No, it was good. He's a little old for her. I think she actually invited him over for me," she said. Pink flushed her cheeks. "But he seems to like her."

Scorpius glanced over at the boy again. He was indeed talking to Lily. He couldn't tell from this distance if it was going well or not.

"Too much information, sorry," Rose said. "I'm stoned," she added, as if to herself. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the window, letting it drift sideways until her cheek rested against the glass.

Scorpius watched her, that something stirring inside him again. Slowly, he leaned his head back too, the window surprisingly cold against his neck. He kept his eyes open, looking upward. "When I'm stoned, I like to look at the stars," he whispered.

Rose's eyes opened, and she straightened up. "Are you any good?" she asked, inclining her chin, meaning star-gazing.

"Oh yeah," he said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Do you remember the star-charts we made in second year astronomy?"

Rose nodded, then asked, "You're not gonna quiz me, are you, because I'm not very good."

"No, I faked all that shit," he said.

Rose laughed, not her controlled laugh, but a loud laugh that came in hiccuping bursts and made her eyes squint partially closed. She touched her fingers to her mouth when she laughed this way, he realized, as if trying to hide it.

It made him join in, his shoulders shaking.

"That one, the group of five there, and the four that swoop here," Rose spoke through her soft laughter, her fingers touching the window, tracing shapes in the sky.

Scorpius tried to follow, but couldn't quite get the same perspective.

"That's the Massive Skunk," she said. "Or that's what my dad calls it. He says it looks like a skunk spraying, with its tail up."

Scorpius smiled. "My sister calls this one battlestar," he said. He pointed with his finger at a bright red star.

Rose placed her finger next to his, so they touched ever so slightly against the glass. She inclined her neck, to see from his view. Her hair brushed his neck. That something that had twinged earlier twinged again, harder.

"That," she said, "is Mars."

"Really?"

"See how it doesn't twinkle like the others," she said. "Maybe I'm better at this than I thought. At least, better than you." She laughed.

"In my defense, my 11 year old sister messed that one up," he countered.

Her lip quirked up in a smile. He stared into her eyes. They were dark brown, so dark that he had to strain to see the pupil within.

"When are you gonna tell me what happened to your face?" she asked. The question caught him off guard, as did her movement. She lifted the hand that had traced Mars, and brought it lightly against his cheek, near his nose.

He jerked away. A reflex from the cold and the twinge of pain.

"Sorry," she whispered.

He shook his head slightly. "It's nothing."

"Rose, we've been looking everywhere," came a voice from behind them.

They both snapped away from each other, Rose's hand dropping into her lap. Lily and Albus stood above them; Lily was staring at Rose, her eyebrow up, and Albus gave Scorpius a curious look.

"What's up?" Rose asked. She stood, stretching.

Lily seemed to let go of her curiosity for the moment. "I want to dance," she said. "Molly and everyone are over there." She pointed.

"Awesome, I need to move a little," Rose said. She followed Lily a few paces, then paused. "Are you guys joining?"

Scorpius glanced at Albus. The other boy answered. "Actually, we're gonna go find Calyx and Cobalt, I think."

"See you out there, probably," Lily said, waving.

Scorpius felt Albus watching him as they moved toward the dance floor, and he tried to act like he wasn't watching Rose walk away.

"You two were talking pretty intensely," Albus muttered after a moment.

Scorpius shot him a look, but the other boy was looking down, his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, we had a miscommunication, I guess," he said finally.

"Mmm," Albus assented. Scorpius waited, but he made no other reply, asked no other questions. "I see Calyx," he said, instead, pointing. "Shall we?"

Scorpius paused, smiling slightly, before following Albus through the crowded dance floor. One thing about Albus, he didn't care much for rumors or gossip. If you gave him an answer that satisfied his question, he didn't push further.

Calyx was with Cobalt and three other girls when they found her. Anita had switched to an upbeat indie-dance playlist. The crowd was even more difficult to get through; people jostled and grinded on each other, others jumped and pumped their fists to the beats. He had to elbow a couple people just to squeeze through. Calyx grinned when she saw Scorpius and Albus, and extended her hand to Scorpius. He took it, and let her spin him. He limboed to fit under her arm. They both laughed.

"This is Elena," Cobalt half-shouted over the music, motioning to the tall blonde girl he was dancing with. Her face was slightly flushed from dancing and she had her arms wrapped tightly around Cobalt's neck, but she smiled at them. "And this is India and Toren," he said, gesturing to the two other girls; a shorter brunette with a nose piercing, and a black-haired girl with piercing blue eyes.

Scorpius nodded his head at each of them. The girl named India caught his eye, and smiled at him. His stomach tightened. He met Cobalt's grin, and started to move to the music. He wasn't a great dancer, like some of his friends were, but he could do well enough. The quick pulsing beats made it easier; you could hide missteps in the complex rhythms.

He eventually let his dancing draw him closer to India, not making eye contact except for brief glances. Toren and Calyx were dancing together, trying to get several boys nearby to join their group. Albus was swaying, warming up, chatting animatedly with Cobalt. When he was near enough, Scorpius smiled at India and held out a hand.

"May I?" he asked.

The girl cracked a smile, and took his hand. "What was your name?" she asked, as they started dancing.

"Scorpius," he answered. He shook the hand that he still held, grinning, then released it. This wasn't the type of music for hand-holding.

"I thought I recognized you," she said. Her voice was deeper than her appearance suggested, sort of coarse like she smoked. It made goosebumps raise on his arms. "Malfoy." She moved closer, pressing her body against his.

Scorpius swallowed hard. "Which House are you in?" he asked. He gave her a once over, searching for any sign of House-colors, though not expecting any. "I haven't really seen you around before."

She laughed. "I'm in Gryffindor. I know," she said in answer to his raised eyebrow. "I always thought I was more of a Slytherin." With a glimmer in her eye, she turned slowly, keeping her body pressed tightly to his, until she was facing away from him, grinding. "How old are you?" she asked.

"Almost seventeen," he answered. Heat rose to his face; it had been a while since he'd danced like this. Who was he kidding: he'd never danced quite like this, never this close anyways. He was vaguely aware of his friends watching them, but realized with gratitude that not many others were paying them any attention. There were, of course, many other "couples" dancing much less appropriately than them.

He felt, rather than heard, her laugh. "Are you just saying that to seem sexier?" she asked. She pulled his face down so she could whisper in his ear. "Don't worry, I like the idea of a younger guy." So she was a seventh-year; that explained why he'd never really seen her before.

She seemed to think she'd thrown him with that comment. Well, I'll have to teach her a lesson, he thought with a smile. He brought one hand to her waist and the other to her opposite wrist. He spun her around in one movement, keeping her pressed against him, until she faced him again.

Her eyes were wide, but excited.

He brought his hands to her bare shoulders, barely touching, then slowly let them fall down her arms, tracing the slight muscles in her arms. His lips were at her ear. "I'm seventeen in two months," he said, dropping his voice so she could hear him. A shiver went through her body. He smiled. "And don't worry, I like the idea of an older girl. Especially when you move so well."

He thoughts wandered slowly back to his conversation with Rose. He started slightly.

India breathed shakily, and that brought him back. What does it matter where Rose is, he wondered, when I'm with India. She turned her head slowly, letting her nose graze across his t-shirt to the exposed skin of his neck. Then she lifted her chin, and he felt her lips touch his throat.

He sighed and opened his eyes, not realizing they were closed. Over her shoulder, he caught sight of the Weasley-Potters.

It took him a moment to realize why he had such a clear view of them. Rose was dancing with one of the twins from the carriage, Lorcan he thought his name was. The boy was still a foot taller than her, even with her heels, and they were laughing, bumping hips, doing some strange sort of dance Scorpius had never seen before. People had paused in their dancing to watch, clapping and laughing. As they moved, jerking one leg in front of them and jabbing their thumbs to the side, Rose caught his eye and, he could have sworn, flushed slightly darker pink.

A wave of emotion hit him. He had the impulse to move away from India, to jerk himself from her lips still on his neck. In the next moment, the impulse was gone.

India had noticed his inattention. "Was that ok?" she asked.

"Yeah, of course," he said, "Sorry, I saw someone."

India turned to look where he inclined his chin, then laughed. "You never know what you'll see at these parties," she said.

Scorpius let his eyes linger for a moment longer on Rose. She was linked arm-in-arm with Roxanne now, the two of them spinning, leaning back so their hair spun out behind them. Indeed.

They danced for a while longer, then India eventually slowed. "Are you any good at Quidditch?" she asked.

Scorpius shrugged. "I've played," he said.

"There's a game freed up over there," she said, gesturing to the far side of the room. "Does anyone want to play?" She said the last part louder, to the group.

Calyx immediately perked up. "Beer Quaffle? Yes! We need one more." She glanced around, and caught Albus was the arm. "Come play with us, Al."

Albus glanced longingly at a couple girls dancing near them, looking slightly upset, but let himself be dragged off.

The game was set up like a standard Quidditch pitch on a long table, using a set of six gold cups - three to each side - as the goals and a small red foam ball as the Quaffle. Each team had two players, and each team member took turns making it into a cup. If you made a goal, the members of that team had to take a shot, two shots if it was the middle cup. It was a game that some older Muggle-born students had introduced at one of the earlier parties, and it caught on quickly even with the stricter Pureblood students.

India was very good at it, making almost all of her shots, while Scorpius made about 50 percent of his. Calyx kept doing crazy dances in his line of sight when it was his turn to shoot; it was incredibly distracting, or at least that was his excuse. Albus was equally as good as India; he made several shots behind his back for double points (giving a bow afterwards), so the teams stayed tied through several rounds.

A queue formed beside the table as they played, with contestants waiting to play the winner. To Scorpius' dismay, Rose and Roxanne were second in line. His throws improved slightly as they played through against Calyx and Albus, eventually winning because the two of them couldn't stop bickering - "It's not my fault, I think like a beater," Calyx argued when she bowled the cups over twice in a row, and spattered beer on the onlookers - and then the next group (winning again). He wasn't sure if it was because winning allowed him to sober up slightly, or if Rose watching him made him try harder, but his game improved as they played.

"We have to chest bump after each score," Rose explained to Roxanne, holding her by the shoulders. "It's a voodoo thing. Ok?"

"Rosie," the other girl said, "I've played this game countless times with you. I'm aware of your superstitious need for chest bumps. Now let's do this."

India shot, making the center cup, then Scorpius missed his. Rose and Roxanne did a cheers, and downed their shots of liquor, grimacing. Roxanne shot, the ball glancing off the lip of one of the cups, then Rose shot and made it in the center cup as well. They did an aggressive chest bump as India and Scorpius took their shots.

"What's up with the…" India gestured at them, preparing for her shot.

Rose smiled. "It's something I started doing when my cousins and I would degnome my grandparent's garden," she said, flushing, "And I haven't lost a match since I started."

"Wait, wait," India said. She laughed so hard she missed her shot. "You've never lost a match because of that?"

"Degnome?" Scorpius asked at the same time.

"Nope," Rose said, biting her lip.

Roxanne explained, "She's never lost at degnoming or Beer Quaffle. She has lost astronomically at other things, like real Quidditch." The last part she added while making her shot into the middle cup.

"Well, I don't play on a team, like you or Lily," Rose added, but she laughed. She glanced at Scorpius, her eyes glimmering. "Degnoming is a game my father and his siblings started when they were our age. You grab a gnome by the ankles, spin around, and throw it as far as you can over the garden wall."

Scorpius frowned, puzzled. This was not the sort of story he'd expected from her. "Isn't your mother involved in-"

"Yes," Rose added, smiling, "and no, she doesn't really approve of the mistreatment of other creatures, but it's a much more humane way to get rid of them than what my grandmother threatens. Gnome-be-gone," she whispered. "And it keeps all of us grandchildren preoccupied."

Scorpius stared at the ball in his hand, picturing a bunch of people swinging gnomes around their heads. It was beyond comical.

They played through the game, eventually losing to Rose and Roxanne's unbeatable chest-bump voodoo. Scorpius couldn't help but feel slightly relieved when they parted ways. It made his stomach feel strange, like it was full of twisting snakes, when India kept wrapping her arm around his waist and kissing his neck - which he with-a-doubt enjoyed - around Rose.

Neither Rose nor Roxanne seemed to pay any attention to their opponent's PDA, and it made Scorpius uneasy that it was his own nervousness and discomfort which made him pull away from India more frequently than he wanted to.

It's the first time in a while, that's it, he told himself. This is the first time you've been with someone in public since last year; it's natural discomfort.

And once they were away from the crowd waiting for the Beer Quaffle table, he did start to feel more secure. He took India's hand as they moved through the crowd, stroking her soft skin. Her skin was darker than his, and it made it feel warmer somehow. They grabbed a drink and headed to a table.

India sat on a stool with a heavy sigh. "These high heels are great for Beer Quaffle - gives me a better vantage point - but man are they painful," she rubbed her ankle and laughed.

Scorpius chuckled. "You wear them just to be better at Beer Quaffle?" He stared at her foot, then wandered his gaze up her long, slim legs. "I mean, I'm not complaining about how you look in them at all…but they seem more painful than they're worth."

India stared at him, her eyes darkening. Scorpius had a brief moment to wonder if he'd spoken too explicitly and upset her, but then her arm was reaching out to draw him closer. "They also have other advantages," she said. She leaned off her bar stool and pressed her lips to his, once, twice. Warm spread through his body. "Like height," she whispered against his lips.

He smiled. The movement brought their lips together again. He brought a hand to her neck, deepening the kiss. "Again, I'm not complaining," he said.


End file.
